#i was hesitant to post about it in the first place for exactly this reason | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arachine · 1 year

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— ❝on this fateful night...two hearts danced.❞ ˚₊✩‧₊

ᥫ᭡ pairing :: neteyam sully x human! reader

ᥫ᭡ synopsis :: in omaticayan culture, a young na’vi male does not yet become a full fledged adult until he passes one of two rites of passage: 1) choosing an ikran, and 2) carving a bow from the wood of Hometree (and/or choosing a woman). reader is now 20, and the only man she’s ever loved is expected to choose a wife soon. one day when she overhears a rumor concerning neteyam and the first woman in line to betroth him, reader is struck with grief, ultimately venturing off deep into the forest where she knows nobody will follow her—somewhere forbidden. however, unbeknownst to her, a certain someone follows her trail…

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ general tags :: 18+ (explicit sexual content, explicit language), angst, fluff

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters aged up to 20, use of alcohol, inebriation, size kink (kinda), vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), male masturbation, overstimulation, riding (no penetration), m/f ejaculation, squirting…i took some things out but i think that’s it?

ᥫ᭡ notes :: what a long week this has been…but we made it! i cannot believe the first thing i post after being on hiatus for months is blue alien sex. anyway, i hope you all enjoy. also, be mindful that the dialogue switches between formal and casual. it’s something that i noticed neteyam and kiri do a lot in the movie. for what reason? idk…but the big font after the read more is intentional bc ik some ppl complain that the small font hurts their eyes :3

ᥫ᭡ word count :: 7.2k

— playlist :: spotify link

“You have been wandering off by yourself a lot lately…”

There goes that attentiveness, you could never put anything past her—Kiri, that is. She was just too good (to a fault), and though her keen eye and emotional intelligence were extremely useful, they were also the most aggravating traits about her.

Now, you could just tell her the truth about the place you’re always wandering off to, and you also could confide in her about the thing that’s been plaguing your mind recently—but you don’t, because you know better.

For a split second, though, you hesitate telling her. The lean girl tilts her head, eyes flitting between your face and the satchel in your hands. Smoothly, you pull the satchel across your body and shift it to rest behind you—out of sight.

Kiri seems to notice your apprehension, and so, she peels her eyes from the bag, offering you her full attention by resuming eye contact once again. If she has even the slightest hunch that you’re hiding something, she doesn’t voice her suspicions.

“Well, I won’t pry, sister. You know that I am always here to listen,” she reassured, reaching out a gentle hand towards your face. You let the tips of her fingers graze your cheek, the warmth of her hand providing transitory comfort.

The two of you exchange sweet smiles before you pull away. It was getting dark, and the longer you stayed here, the harder it’d be to avoid the very thing you were trying to get away from—the very person you were trying to get away from.

“I know, Kiri,” you grabbed her hand, encasing it between your own, “I know…but—I have to go. I promise I’m alright. I’ve just…been doing some thinking, and I think I gotta sort some things out with myself before I can be around the rest of you, you know?”

There’s a silence between the two of you, and you’re not exactly sure if she’s taken offense to what you’ve just said, or if she’s carefully choosing her words. You decide on the latter though, because the last thing you want to do is make her feel as if she’s done something wrong, or if anyone has done something wrong. This was entirely on you; you and your stupid, selfish human heart.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” she replies, squinting her eyes. Again, there’s a silence, but you can tell she still has something to say, like she’s mulling it over. “Will you at least be here tonight? You know, for the big feast? Everyone will be here, even Neteyam,” the girl tsks playfully, shaking her head as she walks circles around you.

Immediately your body stiffens, and she responds to this by teasing you, “Or, I could just save you something…or maybe i’ll ask Neteyam to save you something since he’ll be the most important man tonight.”

“And why would you do that?” the words leave your tongue before you have the chance to process them. It reads rather defensively, but you ignore it. “I mean, why—why ask Neteyam?”

“Because he’s your friend…” kiri pokes you, “because you love him,” she whispers, only this time her voice is a lot more serious, a lot quieter—a whisper. This is when you get that feeling again.

That weird, achy feeling that leaves your stomach in knots and your throat all puffy. The sensation is debilitating—suffocating, and the only way you know how to ease it is by doing what you had set out to do in the first place (though, you were swiftly interrupted).

“Don’t be silly, Kiri,” your smile drops solemnly, “we’re…friends, just friends. Besides, he’s going to be spoken for soon. There are a lot of Na’vi women who would make fine mates…” Your voice decrescendos into the forest night air, the conversation lasting a lot longer than you’d anticipated. To stop your solemn mood from being expressed outwardly, you quickly turn around, looking back once to speak.

“Anyway, I have to go now. I’ll see you later.” Kiri nods and waves bye, her eyes watching as your small frame disappears out of her family’s tent.

A cacophony of voices and music fall on deaf ears as you make your way through the village. The preparation is beginning, but all you can think about is him. Him, him, him.

And ever since you overheard a rumor that Neytiri and Mo’at had chosen the next in line to become tsahik after Neytiri, your heart stopped beating…because you knew. You knew exactly what this meant—the end.

Neteyam was to be a future olo’eyktan, after all. And in Na’vi culture, the future head of the clan and the future spiritual representative were to be betrothed. You knew that, and yet, you couldn’t fathom it. Because then it’d be the end.

The end of your late night rendezvous, the end of your special talks, the end of your banter, and your clandestine glances—your whispers. The ones that were quiet, and innocent…the ones that tingled the shell of your ears. Meant for him and you only.

It was selfish, really. Stupid. You knew the day would come when he’d have to grow up and fulfill his duties as a Na’vi male. Just not this soon though, you wanted to hold onto him a little longer. And if drinking your pain away to preserve those precious memories could do that, then you’d do it.

Lost in your train of thought, you don’t register that you’ve walked yourself right into the heart of a crowd until you bump into a young na’vi child. Apologizing, you then attempt to squeeze through the sea of bodies, tapping lightly on people’s legs until you reach the front. The people were cheering, celebrating the hunters’ return and the game that the Great Mother had graciously given them.

Slowly, hunters had begun pooling in from the forest on direhorseback. Then, they started coming in clusters, all ululating, and pumping their fists in the air while holding their dead game in the other. Your head turned in awe as each hunter rode past you, the energy of the people so contagious that your sour mood was starting to dissipate, even if just a little.

Thinking that was the last of the riders, you begin walking again, but the sound of heavy hooves striking the ground halt your movements. Turning your head back to the trees, you see something moving behind the shrubbery, and then enters none other than the man of the hour: Neteyam. If the people weren’t cheering before, they were definitely cheering now—especially since he’d managed to catch an adult sturmbeest (which was a difficult feat).

The direhorse strides slowly through the crowd, and stops in the centre on Neteyam’s command. Nobody can take their eyes off of him, and neither can you. He just looks so strong, and masculine—like his father, even though he’s the spitting image of his mother. Neteyam puts his hand into the air before he dismounts his horse and ushers the people to settle down, and eventually, they do.

He points to the sturmbeest that his direhorse is carrying back to be prepared. “Tonight, my brothers and sisters…” a pause, “we dance! we sing! we feast!” His words excite the villagers again, uluations so loud that your ears begin to ring. Just as you’re about to turn away, his eyes meet yours—he smiles. And there it is. That achy feeling in your chest.

He wants to say something, reaches his arm out to you as if he were silently telling you to wait up, but then a girl strikes up a conversation with him. At first, you’re not entirely sure who it is—and you shouldn’t even care—but then you do a double take and your heart sinks a little more. It was Tsimandi, the girl rumored to be his betrothed.

From this distance, you can’t hear what they’re talking about, so you watch intently. He’s got his head thrown back in hearty laughter, and she’s touching him—actually touching him, her hands wrapped around his forearm in an attempt to pull him further away.

You think if you stay a second longer you’ll actually become a pile of liquid where you stand, so you take this opportunity to slip away while he’s preoccupied.

When Neteyam looks back, he notices your absence. Squinting, he looks around in search of you, and then he sees what looks like a person disappearing into the thick of the forest. Just what is she doing?

“I apologize, Tsimandi, but I must do something,” he begins backing away, a genuine expression etched onto his face, “I will see you tonight, at the feast!”

“Oh, o-okay,” she mutters but he’s already run off. Neteyam calls for his direhorse and waits at the edge of the forest until it comes running towards him. Before he can mount it and follow you, someone calls out to him.

“And where are you going?” the voice queries, tone laced with suspicion. He recognizes who it belongs to and sighs.

“Nowhere, sir,” he dismounts, meeting his father’s eyes, his mother also accompanying him.

“Yeah, I’d hope so. The people are throwing this feast for you, or have you forgotten?” Jake gives him a once over, eyes still boring into his son.

“No, sir. I have not forgotten,” the boy lowers his gaze in embarrassment.

“Good. Go get ready, knucklehead.”

With each trudge through the forest, you were losing more and more sunlight. You’d walked about halfway to your destination when you remembered the bottle sloshing around in your satchel.

Usually, you waited to drink the liquid there, but you decided given today’s strenuous events, you’d have some now. A reward, you tell yourself. Taking the bottle out of the bag, you lift your mask from your face briefly, twisting open the top and taking a big swig.

No matter how many times you did it, the taste always made you gag. Bourbon—is what they called it. It was equal parts bitter and pungent but it did the trick. Helped you to relax, to forget. The first time you came across it, it was by pure accident.

You’d been somewhere you shouldn’t have been, doing things you shouldn’t have been doing. But one thing led to another, and soon enough, you were inebriated for the first time.

By the time you drink half of your weight in liquor, you reach your destination. The old shack. After what happened with the Sky People, Jake’s first rule as olo’eyktan was to prohibit anyone from entering.

Even being somewhere remotely around the area was forbidden. But you were no stranger to disobedience, you’d come here once with Lo’ak (which was your first time actually).

Though, you didn’t get to explore much because Tuk had spoiled your fun by telling Jake. That day was one of your favorite memories, you think. Jake couldn’t stop yelling at the two of you, but all you could do was laugh. Nothing was really even funny, but you couldn’t help it. Seeing Jake’s eye twitch at your outburst only exacerbated it.

Lo’ak was getting the worst of it, and Neteyam fell victim to Jake’s nagging too for not ‘being there’. After a while, he’d dismissed the bunch of you from his tent and as soon as you were out of earshot, the three of you went into a frenzy of laughter. You think back fondly on those memories, all the ones that include Neteyam, that is.

“God, there isn’t a second when I’m not thinking of you…” you sigh in exhaustion, extending an arm out to open the shack’s door. Reaching in your satchel, you pull out two jars full of glow worms (you’ve found that two jars are enough to light up the shack). Ambling over to your favorite spot, you open a cabinet and reach for another bottle of that bitter liquid you willingly put into your body.

It’s still a wonder to you how well preserved these bottles remained over the years, and you’re pretty sure you’ve heard Norm or someone mention that the older the liquor, the better it tastes (which was a lie, but alas, you down another shot).

“Wooo,” a cough erupts from your throat, “yep, still nasty.”

At this point, the liquor is starting to take effect. Warmth radiates throughout your entire body, and you can feel your limbs gradually getting heavier. Being drunk had to be one of your top three favorite feelings.

It either made you: sad, tired, or giggly (maybe even all at once). But now? Now you were feeling sleepy, so you groggily trudge over to one of the beds in the shack.

As soon as your body hits the plush, a cloud of dust filters through the air. It was incredibly disgusting, but you’d slept in worse places. For now, you would lay here…succumbing to a sweet slumber.

Neteyam had gone home without fuss as promised. Go and get ready. Well, he was doing exactly that now, exchanging his previous attire for that of something more formal. He rolled his eyes and huffed. Sometimes his father could just be a…

“Son of a bitch,” the boy snapped, his frustration reaching its peak. He’d been standing in the tent for about 10 minutes trying to figure out this headpiece his mother had laid out for him, but could not for the life of him figure it out.

Giving up, he throws it to the ground and takes a seat with his head in his hands. Kiri slips in shortly after his outburst, bending to the ground to retrieve the item. Hesitantly, she walks over to her brother.

“If you needed some help, you could have called, brother.” Neteyam lifts his head up from his hands to see Kiri towering over him, his eyes breaking contact with hers as she sits down next to him. There’s a pregnant pause, but it doesn’t last for long because Kiri is already opening her mouth to speak.

“What is troubling you?” She asks, forcing Neteyam to turn his back to her so that she can place the headpiece onto him properly. He inhales deeply, then exhales.

“I do not know…I saw (your name) earlier and…” Kiri hums, encouraging him to continue, “and—she had this strange look on her face.”

“Look? What do you mean? Was she angry? Sad?”

“I have never seen it before, sister. She usually looks happy when she sees me…but this look was different,” his voice is almost inaudible when he finishes. Kiri ponders for a bit, tilting her head as if she were mentally putting the puzzle pieces together.

“How come you did not speak to her?” Kiri makes her final adjustments to the headpiece, ushering Neteyam to meet her eyes.

“I was going to…I tried to, but Tsimandi found me before I could,” he fiddles with his fingers. Kiri takes note of his disposition, and she frowns empathetically. Clearly, whatever was going on with you two was something you had to work out together. This wasn’t like either of you!

“But it was not just today either,” he continues, “she has been distancing herself for awhile, have you noticed?” She laughs at this, nodding her head.

“Yes, she has been acting a little strange lately. I think I might know what is troubling her, brother,” the girl takes his hand into her own. “But I cannot tell you. This is something that concerns only she and you…”

Neteyam squints his eyes in confusion, muttering a ‘what’. His mouth opens to speak but he is swiftly interrupted upon Jake and Neytiri’s arrival. He looks to Kiri for some clarification but all she says is: ‘go, go, you have a feast to attend’, followed with a, ‘find her later’.

“Well? Come on, the people won’t wait for your blue ass all day will they?” Jake teases. Neytiri slaps his arm, scolding him playfully.

“Ah, my son, my beautiful son,” she pads to where he stands, taking his face into her hands. “It is time to go, we must celebrate you.”

Jake nods, flashing a quick wink of approval. Together, they all walk out of the tent and through the village where they’re instantly greeted with colorful luminescence, loud music, and food. All things that have been so generously prepared for him. By the time they make it down to the Tree of Souls, everyone halts their cheering to hear what Jake has to say.

“Tonight we eat,” a pause, “in honor of Neteyam’s mighty victory!” Jake grabs his eldest son’s hand, raising it in the air. “He led his first attack against the Sky People and made it back without any casualties!” A sudden roar of praise erupts from the crowd.

Everyone is chanting his name, and clapping, but even amidst all this praise, he can’t help but to think about you. What does all of this matter if you’re not here to celebrate with him?

You’ve been by his side since the two of you could walk, so where are you now? The thought saddens him, but he can’t wear his heart on his sleeve tonight. Not when there’s so many people here just for him.

“For the past 20 years, my son has always been just a boy to me. But now I realize…he is a man—and he has proven himself in front of the eyes of Eywa,” The former marine glances down at his son, eyeing him in admiration. “Enough talking, let us feast!”

Laughter and songs fill the warm, breezy nighttime air. It’s been about two hours since the celebration commenced, and Neteyam has just about made his rounds to every important family.

He smiles warmly as he looks at the scene in front of him: children playing and dancing by the fireside, putting on elaborate performances for the adults still filling their bellies full of food. Everyone is lively—happy, a testament to tonight’s success.

Mo’at is pleased by this especially, she tells him that ‘this is what the people needed’—you know, to boost morale. At some point, when nobody is watching, he slips away from the party to walk around. Unbeknownst to him, someone has seen him.

“Getting tired?” a voice questions from the shadows. Out comes Kiri, revealing herself from behind a leaf.

“Yes, exhausted actually,” he jokes, disconnecting his braid from his direhorse. “No, but I need to find (your name). She has not come back and it is dark.”

“I figured you would leave early, that’s why I covered your ass and told Dad you were not feeling well,” the feline-like girl smirks.

“Do you have an idea where she might be?”

Kiri takes a moment before answering, “I’m not sure…but for some reason, I have a hunch that she’s at the old shack,” Neteyam furrows his brows in confusion.

“Why do you think she’s there?” he queries, “I mean, it is forbidden.” Kiri offers him a shrug.

“I don’t know but if you’re going to find her, do it now while dad still thinks you’re not feeling well.”

With that, he thanks her for the intel and mounts his horse, disappearing into the thick of the forest. On the way there, his mind conjures up just about every possible scenario that might explain your absence.

Were you upset with him? Did he do something or say something that you didn’t like? He wishes he could just read your thoughts because right now, his heart is pounding so rapidly within the confines of his chest, that he thinks it’ll explode.

This wasn’t like you two, everything was always so easygoing. Being with you was easy, like breathing. But this? His heart couldn’t handle this. Yeah, there’s been some distance between the two of you recently but not due to his own volition—it was duty. If he could spend every second of his life by your side, just being kids, laughing with you, playing with you, he would.

He’s trying to recount these last few days, weeks—months. Trying to pinpoint when exactly things got like this between you…pinpoint when you stopped smiling at him with that smile that made his head all fuzzy, and his heart race like a kid running for the first time.

“Ah, everything’s going to shit, buddy,” he sighs, rubbing the side of his horse, “I don’t know what is wrong.” His mammalian companion grunts empathetically, stopping in its tracks at the edge of the forest when it sees the abandoned link shack. Neteyam doesn’t bother scolding her, because even the animals know that this place is forbidden.

“Alright, I will see you later, okay? Stay here,” he pats her, disconnecting the bond. From this distance, he can see that there seems to be some sort of light illuminating from inside the shack.

That alone already confirms Kiri’s hunch. The closer he gets, the more his stomach feels uneasy. He doesn’t even know why he’s nervous, but he attempts to ease his mind (and body) by telling himself that it’s only you. He’s talked to you one on one hundreds of times, so what’s the difference now?

Noises in the distance rouse you from your ephemeral repose. When you stand up, your head spins with the room, causing you to instinctively reach out for the nearest surface available. Whatever was outside had better be non-threatening, because you were not in the condition to be fighting—let alone standing. When you were drunk like this, you couldn’t even hurt a fly.

“Fuck, I’m gonna have the worst headache soon,” you huff quietly, still aware that there might be someone or something outside. The noise is getting closer, and you’re running out of time to find a hiding spot.

Quickly, you grab the closest thing you can to defend yourself (which is literally a jar of glow worms), and crouch down below the window. When you lift your head just enough to see outside, the makings of a silhouette cloud your vision.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whisper-yell, tightening your hold on the jar. Lifting your head up again, you notice that the figure is not in the spot it was previously. Then, the knob to the shack twists, and now it’s opening, and—

“(Your name)?”

You pause your attack, slowly dropping your hand (that’s holding the jar) to your side. A flood of relief washes over you once you register who the voice belongs to. Rising from the ground, you open the door fully to see Neteyam standing in the doorway.

“I almost killed you, you know!” you raise the jar, pulling him inside of the shack.

“I think it would take more than a jar of worms to kill me,” he teases. Rolling your eyes, you continue ushering him further inside, leading him to an area where you can sit and talk.

“What…what are you doing here?” you finally ask, folding your arms across your chest. Neteyam towers over you from this height, so he accommodates you by dropping to his haunches.

“I was worried about you,” the boy confesses, “what are you doing here? Why were you not at the feast?” Suddenly, you don’t really feel like talking anymore. Even though the adrenaline from before was still pumping through your veins, so was the alcohol in your system. You’re not so sure you’d be able to keep your composure long enough to answer without exposing your truest feelings. So, you decide on deflecting.

“Aren’t you the man of the hour? I think you should go back to the party before daddy throws a fit. We both know how he gets when his perfect little son isn’t at his every beck and call…” As soon as the words spill from your tongue, you wince. It came out meaner than you meant, and the last thing you wanted was to give him shit for being a caring friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t mean that,” you apologize, sitting down on the bed. All he does is sigh, but he takes this opportunity to enter your space, gets all close until his body is nestled between your legs.

“I know…I know, but I want you to tell me what’s wrong, hm?” his fingers lift your chin, “so I can fix it.”

“Can’t fix this, ‘Teyam,” a saltine droplet ribbons down your face. Your head is tilted up with his fingers, but you can’t even force yourself to meet his gaze. God, how pathetic did you look right now?

Here you were, inside an abandoned shack, drinking your body weight in liquor…all while a celebration was being thrown in your best friend’s honor. And for what? Because you were jealous? Because you liked him—loved him?

You knew that eventually your relationship would shift. That he’d take on his duties as the future olo’eyktan, and you’d just be his human friend he hangs with from time to time. How stupid could you be to think things would stay like this forever?

“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothes, both hands now cupping your cheeks, “don’t do that. Do not shut me out. We’re not like this, (your name), you used to always talk to me about things.”

Things. You’d talk about things. But those things were not like these things. And if he knew what things you were thinking about, the things that involved him…then you two would never talk about things again.

You’re curious, though. What if you just told him? Just told him about all the days you’ve loved him, all the nights you’ve stayed up thinking of him—all the stars you counted wishing for him? At least then, the burden of keeping such a secret would stop weighing so heavy on your heart.

“I..” a breath, “I heard a rumor.” The boy hums, encouraging you to continue. “I heard your mother has chosen her successor.”

“Is that what this is about? Why does this bother you?”

“Because you know what this means! We both know what this means, don’t be dense, ’Teyam,” you droop your head in sorrow, coaxing him to just lift it back up. Only this time, his hold on your face is a lot firmer. His eyes are fiercer.

“No. I don’t, so just tell me.”

“You’re gonna be the future olo’eyktan, and we both know that the future clan leader and the chosen tsahik are to be betrothed,” you start, “there will be no time for me! No more late night talks, no more exploring, no more secret whispers…I mean, I get it, you have duties to fulfill but…I wanna be selfish a little longer. Can’t I be selfish a little longer?”

You say the last line while meeting his gaze. You’re teary eyed and shaking, but you try your best to keep any semblance of composure you have left intact (though, it’s failing). His expression is indiscernible.

It makes you nervous. Sick. And now you’re forcing yourself not to throw up because…the realization that you just told someone your deepest, truest, most vulnerable feelings makes you physically ill.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry. Forget what I jus—“

“Are you serious? You don’t get it do you?” Neteyam’s head falls forward, a little chuckle slipping past his lips. His hands leave your head and slither down to your hands. He takes them into his own, eyeing you while kissing the knuckles of each.

The act is incredibly intimate, sends white-hot electricity down the column of your spine. Renders you speechless. All you can do is sit there, too scared that if you move or speak, you’ll shatter into a million little pieces.

“I have duties, yes…but my heart is already spoken for. Always has been.”

“What are you saying, ’Teyam,” your head snuggles into the warmth of his hand. You know exactly what he’s saying, but you want to hear him say—

“I see you,” he whispers in your ear, “you are my most beloved.” The warmth of his breath tingles the shell of your ear, it takes the strength of a thousand men to not scream.

But in this moment? In this moment you want to kiss him. You want to kiss him silly, actually, but you quickly remember the thing on your face preventing your lips from connecting with his. There are truly evil forces conspiring against you.

“I want to kiss you,” you admit solemnly.

“Oh, you don’t know how many nights I’ve spent dreaming about kissing you. Too many,” he jokes, “but I’m afraid if we remove this, you’ll die.”

“Then you don’t have to kiss my lips,” a silence, “you can kiss me anywhere you’d like. Anywhere.”

His green eyes flitter between your face and your body, and then his hands are on you, forcing you to lay back against the bed. You lift your head up and lean back onto your elbows, watching through lust-filled eyes as he begins his ministrations.

He starts from the bottom, works his way up real slowly—too slowly. He’s showing restraint, and while you appreciate the fact that he’s worshiping your body like a devoted follower worships their deity, you want him to ravage you. To eat you up until there’s nothing left but bones.

“’Teyam, please…” you breathe out impatiently. Like the cocky-brat he is, he ignores your pleas, only laughing into your skin.

“Shh, be calm.” The plush of his lips trail up the plains and pastures of your body, up your calves, your thighs (he spends the most time there), and then comes to a stop at the crest of your breasts. His fingers fiddle with the cloth covering your chest, lightly tracing the edges that rest just beneath your mounds.

A tease is what he is. And you didn’t have the time for a tease, so you figured you’d help speed up the process by removing it. Sitting up, you untie the makeshift top and let it fall to your lap, smirking deviously as if you’ve done something so naughty.

“Thought I’d help you,” you grin, wrapping your hands around his neck, “Please, no more going slow…I think we’ve been going slow for twenty years, don’t you think?”

And he gets the hint, once again resuming his assault on your body, but this time with more fervor. More urgency. He’s kissing you everywhere, licking wet stripes over your chest, and leaving love bites in the places where he’s kissed you. Right now he’s acting on his most basic, primal instincts—he’s claiming you as his mate—in the only way he knows how to.

The feeling of his hands on your neck, back, thighs and waist send you into oblivion. But then his hands are creeping up to your tits, deft fingers twisting and kneading, and oh god, you’re seeing stars. The addition of his mouth doesn’t help either.

“You’re so,” a kiss, “beautiful,” a suck, “perfect.” Neteyam kneads one breast while his mouth works on another. He plops down onto a pert nipple, using his tongue to draw circles around the area, his saliva acting as a salve.

A moan (that comes out more like a disgruntled sigh) vacates your throat, and his eyes widen in excitement. The sight of his tail swaying in the background makes you giggle. Cute, you think.

Even though what the two of you were doing wasn’t innocent, you couldn’t help but to feel all giddy. Reaching a hand out, you place a gentle palm on the side of his face.

You trace the contours of his nose, his cheekbones, smooth over his jaw, and then stop at his lips. Your thumb grazes them, first the top, then the bottom—learning. Committing them to memory, how they look, feel, and move under your thumb.

Neteyam is unmoving while you continue to run your finger across his lips—save for his hand, which slowly begins traveling south to your thighs. Experimentally, you push your thumb inside of his mouth, pressing the digit down on his tongue before tracing his cat-like canines. This moment is particularly special, because now it’s you who’s doing the admiring.

The free hand that’s not inching towards your core, skillfully removes the loin cloth around your hips. Immediately, he’s met with your bare sex. It’s smooth—wet, so incredibly wet that it has his cock twitching, and his hands eager to touch you. He wants to taste you. Feel you, all of you.

“I—,” a slender finger rubs your slit, “mmf, see you,” you mewl, cupping his cheek. Neteyam’s eyes widen, he wants to hear you make that sound again…and again, and again, and—

The boy repeats the action. Watches your abs flex and tremble from the touch, and your thighs close in on his arm. Using the other hand, he gently pulls them apart and leaves three open-mouthed kisses: one on your inner thigh, one on another, and then a final one at the top of your mound. The heat from his nostrils make you full body shiver; suddenly, being the only one completely bare is slightly bothering you.

“Do not cover yourself. I want to see you,” his hand finds your cunt again, a long finger pushing into you ever so slowly, “…want to hear those sweet sounds again.”

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you watch his digit push further into you, the drag of a knuckle against your slick walls aiding in the pleasure. You can’t help but to wince at the intrusion, because shit, this was a lot more than what you were used to—using your fingers, that is.

You also suppose penetration would be off the table considering humans and Na’vi were never meant to mate, but it doesn’t prevent you from fantasizing about it anyway. How big was it? Did he touch himself? Use his hands and picture yours?

The thought of him hunching over, rubbing one out, all slick with sweat and pre has your head all dizzy. Your mouth is practically salivating at the mental image you’ve conjured up in your head of him fucking your face, but you know it would never fit. There really are evil forces conspiring against you…

Neteyam’s finger reaching the hilt brings you back down to reality. A forceful thrust that coaxes you to gasp sharply and grab his forearm. After patiently waiting for you to adjust to his size, he begins to move. He sets a steady rhythm, pulling out slowly, then pushing back into you with the same velocity.

Eventually, his movements become less hesitated, and more calculated. Instead of steady and slow, he begins increasing the pace of his thrusts, then graduates from speed to incorporating force.

Every delve of his finger, every deliberate drag and prod has fire pooling in the depths of your belly. Squelches and whimpers ricochet off of the metal walls, and fuck, his dick won’t stop twitching.

It’s grown considerably harder in these past few minutes, and all from just hearing you vocalize your pleasure. When the stretch stops feeling like a stretch, and starts feeling like a ‘give me more’, that’s when you encourage him to add another. And of course, he indulges you.

The same time he pushes another finger in, is the same time he starts rubbing himself. He’s not even really aware of it at first, it’s mindless. He’s just so entranced by you, and the sounds you’re making, the things you’re saying, the way your cunt’s sucking in his fingers—

Fuck. He just finished all over himself. He doesn’t let that deter him though, keeps fingering you through his post-orgasm, taking care of you until you come undone on his fingers.

And the sight is amazing, he can’t stop gawking at the way your hole flutters around him, and the nectar-like liquid that drips down the length of his fingers and onto the bed. He wants to taste it.

“Can I taste you?” he asks. You’re in such a daze that the question doesn’t even register, suddenly too preoccupied with breathing like you’ve forgotten how to.

“Huh? Wha—ohhhh.” His tongue licks a long stripe up your slit. He concentrates the tip at the bottom, lapping at the essence that leaks from there, and then circles back to your puffy bud. Experimentally, he prods it with his fingers, rubbing it in tantalizingly slow circles.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers almost feel overwhelming, you feel like a puppet on a marionette with the way he’s maneuvering your legs around for better access. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was a starved man.

His mouth is slick with drool, and his hands are pressing down so firmly onto your thighs, that you’re sure a handprint will be there for you to discover in the morning. His tongue feels so good on you, so nasty.

The picture is obscene, unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed before. But the thing that’s really getting to you are the sounds he’s making. Grunts and groans, expletives and mumbles. ‘So good’, ‘perfect’, ‘beautiful’…it has your head spinning and your fists gripping for the sheets beneath you.

There’s a knot in your abdomen pulled taut like a string of twine. You can feel it twisting and pulling, ready to come undone at the drop of a pin. The more he works on your slit, the more the temperature rises in the shack.

Was the room always spinning? Did your body always run this hot? It feels like you’ve been thrown into a furnace, and the only source of coolness is the wetness that his tongue provides.

“‘M gonna, mmf, ’s too much!” you jab at his hand in an attempt to push him away. He’s relentless though, still sucking harshly, and teasing, ramming his thick fingers up against your gummy walls.

It feels different than when you touch yourself, more intense. Like something’s sitting heavy on your bladder. Then, snap. The string in your abdomen unravels, bringing forth a flood of ecstasy.

“’Teyam!” you sob, back arching to the ceiling. When he pulls his fingers out, a stream of clear liquid seeps from your cunt. He’s awestruck, staring in admiration as your sweat kissed chest rises and falls rhythmically.

“Look, your legs are shaking,” he points, biting down a laugh, “why are they shaking?”

“Oh my god, shut up!” you feign offense, pushing him backwards with a chuckle. He pretends to be wounded, rubbing his back dramatically, ‘oohing’ and ‘owing’ as he does so. When you finally sit up, your eyes naturally fall to his loincloth, a wet ringlet contrasting starkly against the beige textile.

“Hey…” your voice is hesitant, but teetering on the edge of curiosity, “Can I try something?”

The boy silently nods his approval, shifting his position on the ground when you amble over to him. A look of confusion molds onto his face following the events that involve you plopping down onto his lap and laying him down. He goes to speak but you interrupt him.

“Your turn, right? Can’t put it in, but…I can still make you feel good,” you say, tugging on the piece of fabric that separates your sex from his. Eagerly, he removes it for you and lets the item fall haphazardly to the ground.

It’s big, so big—and pretty too. A beautiful blue hue that matches the rest of his body, paired along with a blushing teal tip that’s oozing pre. You want to know what he tastes like on your tongue…

“So pretty.”

Heat rises to his cheeks, and his tail takes an aquiline form, quivering in rapid movements. His usual, over-confident disposition was slowly dissipating under your intense gaze, and you reveled in it by mocking his bashfulness.

“Awe, the little kitty’s shy,” you mock, tickling his side.

“Stop it, I don’t look like those Earth things,” he laughs, pushing your hand away, but to no avail. You continue to dodge his attempts to stop you, tickling him here and there until he accidentally bucks and pulls you down against him. Embarrassingly, you let a whine fall from your lips…still too sensitive down there, you guess.

There’s a shit-eating grin plastered on his face now, you hate it. “Who’s making noises like a kitty now, huh?” With this, he takes the liberty to do it again, pressing you down hard against his length.

The feeling of your bare cunt against him is electrifying, probably (definitely) not better than him being inside you, but the next best thing. This was supposed to be your thanks to him. But now he’s taken full charge—maneuvering you back and forth, gripping and kneading—it’s cruel.

For someone who’s never mated with anyone in his life, he’s sure moving you around like he has. His hands are all over you—thighs, hips, waist, breasts, it’s almost overwhelming. Every touch, addled with the buck of hips, brings forth a new sensation that is better than the last. You think this would be a good way to go out, right on his cock. One last hurrah before the morbid inevitable.

“You f-feel so good, (your name),” his voice is breathy, “r-really good.” Neteyam’s grip on your arms is vice, partly because he can feel his climax approaching, but mostly because he can tell you’re growing tired.

Swiftly, he changes your positions to where you’re laying on your back and he’s crouching over you. The tip of his head smoothes over your folds when he pushes up, and before he draws back, you can see just about where his dick would rest if he were inside of you.

“I’d be all the way up here,” he presses down just beneath your breastbone, “you’re so tiny.” It sounds so dirty, but you know ultimately he’s just making an observation—regardless, the comment has your stomach churning in excitement.

The both of you watch in fascination as he sheathes himself up and over your cunt, moaning in unison when the tip of his mushroomy head catches against your bud. Euphoric, he thinks. He never imagined that something could feel this good, let alone without connecting bonds.

Still sensitive from earlier, it doesn’t take too long for you to reach your peak. Neteyam knows that your arrhythmic breathing is a tell-tale sign, and he helps you get there by cooing words of encouragement.

He goes back and forth between ’I got you’s and ‘it’s okay’s, leaving trails of kisses down your body in his wake. The second you finish, you’re pulling him down onto you tight. Moaning and whining into his ear, whispering those same words of encouragement that he whispered to you prior.

“So good, ‘Teyam,” you claw at his back, “keep going, want you to feel good too.” And he does. Unrelenting in his attack against your sex, he comes with a few more pistons.

You eagerly welcome him into your arms when he drops from exhaustion, and hold him there until your erratic breaths synchronize. The both of you are disgustingly sweaty and sticky, but even so, you feel at peace.

You bask in the tranquil quietness of the night, just staring at each other. Soft caresses and soothing hums. Then, Neteyam speaks.

“On this fateful night, two hearts danced…” he whispers, grabbing your hand to hold it over his heart.

“What does this mean?” you smile at him. He ponders over it and then explains.

“My songcord…I want to tell this story,” he starts, “the night when two hearts became one.”

A crystal droplet cascades down your face, “that sounds beautiful.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam sully x reader smut #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x reader smut #avatar x reader #avatar x reader smut #neteyam smut #avatar the way of water #atwow #awow #avatar smut #avatar the way of water smut

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Note

☀️ with evan buckley "I would choose you over anyone." { keeping the relationship a secretl and catching eyes in a crowded room} pleaseeee

Fire Hazard.

l. Catching eyes in a crowded room + m. Keeping the relationship a secret + 17. "I would choose you over anyone."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first buck fic!! love him so much, he's an angel :((

Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader

Age Rating - 16+

Warnings - none!! just tooth rotting fluff x

Word Count - 710

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

It's absolutely against the rules.

There's a strict no fraternisation policy in place in every firehouse. It's there for a reason, after all. The city can't have all of its firefighters totally distracted because they're in love with each other.

Buck has never been one to follow the rules.

The minute he saw you, he knew he was in trouble. You cruised into the 118 with your sun kissed skin and gentle eyes and he knew there was no turning back. You flashed that million dollar smile in his direction and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. Yeah, he was screwed.

Little did he know, the feelings were very mutual. The first time he laughed at one of your jokes, your knees almost gave way. He looks at you like you're the only girl in the world. You feel like it, when you're with him.

At the 118, they call you Hazard. No one knows the meaning of the nickname besides Buck. Your little secret.

It came about one Friday morning shift. You weren't supposed to be working that day, but Hen called in sick, so Bobby asked you to cover. You were actually planning on going to the farmer's market, but you diverted your journey and made your way to the firehouse.

You weren't exactly dressed for work. You were wearing a pale yellow floral sundress that fell mid thigh, paired with sneakers and sunglasses. Buck took one look at you and almost passed out.

"Thank you so much for coming at such short notice. You're the best," Bobby says as you walk across the floor.

"It's no problem," you smile, making your way upstairs to grab some water.

Everyone goes back to their tasks, but Buck's eyes are glued to you. You look at him through your lashes, and he abandons cleaning the truck to run after you.

"Hey, you," he grins.

"Hey! You're in a good mood today," you wink.

"Well a pretty girl just walked into the room, so."

"Really? Where?"

You look around while laughing, and he shoves you playfully.

"You're an idiot," he chuckles.

You look at each other for a moment, before you realise what you're wearing.

"Well, I guess I better change," you tell him, turning to leave.

"Wait!"

Buck grabs your wrist and spins you back around, pulling you into him.

"Can you just give me one more minute to admire you in this dress?"

You look down at your feet, slightly taken aback by his boldness. Buck is not one to ever hold back, but he seems to with you. If only you knew it's because he's worried he'll accidentally tell you how he feels - or worse.

He uses his thumb to tilt your chin up so you're looking at him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, aware of the other people on the level below. "Most beautiful girl in the world."

"In the entire world?" you tease.

"Are you kidding?" he asks sincerely. "I would choose you over anyone."

He leans in without hesitation and presses a kiss to your lips. It's sweet and chaste and a promise of so much more. When he pulls away, you're both grinning like idiots.

"I've been waiting to do that since the first day I met you," he confesses.

"Well I've been waiting for you to do that since the first day you met me," you giggle.

He kisses you again quickly, before grabbing a hold of your hand.

"Wear this dress again tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?"

"When I take you out on a real date."

You aim a beaming smile at him, and his heart skips a beat.

"Fine, since you asked so nicely," you wink. "I can't wait."

You lean up to kiss him softly. You both can't get enough.

"If I knew that this dress is all it would take for you to ask me out, I would have worn it months ago," you laugh.

"You walked in and I thought I was gonna burst into flames. You're a fire hazard, woman."

You shove at his arm jokingly, smiling as you do it.

"Well it's a good job I'm a firefighter, huh?" you tease.

No one needs to know how you got your nickname. It's your little secret.

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kikixreverie · 1 year

Text

Need to know

Best friend!Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary - When your best friend starts acting strange and you're left confused about his feelings, Natasha manages to convince you to try to make him jealous, what could go wrong?

Word count - 5k

Warnings - kind of smut, Dry-humping, slight dirty talk, a lot of kissing, fluff, jealousy

A/n - This was a request from an anon but Tumblr ate the ask... and I don't have it written down, but it was something along the lines of 'Best friend!bucky x reader where she asks him advice about a guy to make him jealous'. I wrote this months ago and it definitely wasn't supposed to be this long but here we are. I have edited it about 50 times now and still feel kinda anxious about it since I haven't posted in a while so I really hope you enjoy!

-------------------------------------

You had always been close with Bucky. Always. Having met in your teenage years and grown up together, you were thick as thieves, he'd been your best friend for now the majority of your life. Someone you'd always go to over anyone else when problems would arise at home or school, and he did the same with you.

He had found you hiding out in the library on your second day at your new school, picking at your food with distaste as you sat alone. You were surprised at the fact that the boy had even talked to you in the first place, offering a small wave of his hand and a kind smile when you first saw him, but when he asked politely if he could sit with you and didn't hesitate to pull his lunch from his backpack and complain as dramatically as possible that there was just 'far too much food in his bag and no way he could eat it all', you remember smiling the most you had in weeks, rolling your eyes as you took the fruit he had offered you wordlessly.

You'd been best friends ever since, and there was always this unspoken understanding between you, one that you never had with Steve, as much as you loved him, or Natasha, as close as you are. It was always different with Bucky, always a different atmosphere between the two of you.

That was also unspoken. You'd mentioned it once to Natasha, explained to her that somehow, just being in the same room as him managed to calm that ever-looming anxiety you tended to feel, and when you'd meet his eyes across the distance, you always knew exactly what he was trying to tell you without any words needing to be spoken, that for weeks after your childhood pet passed away when you were 15, Bucky held your hand every single day because your anxiety had spiked and he had noticed the constant shake to them. That became a hard habit to lose.

Her response was 'the look', almost deadpan, wordlessly saying to you 'I know you're not a fucking idiot, c'mon now'.

You had blushed and changed the subject.

Of course there were times you might've looked at him a bit differently, you met at a fairly young age, and it was after meeting him that your interest in boys grew.

Watching the scrawny boy you'd known since you were 13 get his braces off and grow a sudden foot taller was a lot for your growing heart to handle, and then that Brooklyn-boy charm came in and girls were falling at his feet, not one of them knowing or caring about who he was, just hypnotised by those light blue eyes. You always hoped he was too distracted by those girls to notice how desperately hard you tried not to fall under his spell too.

So yeah sure, there may have been a time during your mid-to-late teens and possibly your early twenties that you might have liked him in a' more than a friend' way.

But that didn't mean anything had to come of it.

However, there's a certain red-headed Russian woman in your life that, for some reason, refuses to let you hide in your dark pit of misery and denial.

You shouldn't have even mentioned it. the one time you willingly brought up the topic of James Barnes with the all-knowing Natasha and she had immediately fed your delusions.

"I'm not saying he was jealous at all, Nat, I'm just saying... he looked kind of upset."

"What kind of upset? Did he look sad? Angry? Were his eyebrows all furrowed? ooh, did his fists clench? I bet his fists clenched. The jaw definitely clenched. He's a jaw clencher for sure-"

"Nat, Stop! He just..." You groaned, throwing your head back dramatically as you leaned against her kitchen counter, "He just seemed off."

"Okay, but did his jaw-"

"Yes! Now can we stop talking about it."

She stopped what she was doing to stare at you, her eyebrows raised, "You do realise you're the one that brought it up right?"

You sighed and pressed your palm to your forehead, before dragging it down your face, and Natasha tutted, wrapping her arms around you in a tight squeeze.

"You're stressing yourself out too much about all this, babe. Why don't you just ask him how he feels."

You pulled back from the comforting embrace quickly, but still stayed in her arms, "Fuck that. No. No way. Then he'd know, he'd know why I asked, or he'd at least ask me why I asked and then I'd either have to run away or lie to him and I've never been able to-"

"Okay, breathe angel. Stop this, you can't do this forever, honey. I know you're scared of losing him but this is what could break your friendship if you let it, half the time you're avoiding him because you are so scared of him knowing how you feel." Said Natasha, before she pulled away to continue with her cooking.

"What do you mean how I feel?" You asked, feeling your cheeks grow hot when she sighed and shook her head, not even looking your way.

"Nope, no, not even gonna get started on that one. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

You opened your mouth to argue but she only gave you another look, and your mouth snapped closed.

It was silent for a moment and you leant your elbows on the counter, holding your face in your hands as you watched her expertly sprinkle different spices into her food, but you knew not to get too comfortable in her silence, Natasha was scheming, and that was definitely something to be frightened of.

You practically jumped out of your skin when she finally broke the silence, "I have an idea, but I need you to have an open mind and actually listen for once, okay?"

You hesitated, struggling to hold the intense eye-contact she was currently giving you. A part of you was ready to say no, tell her to leave it be and let you wither in a pit of sadness, but the rest of you leaned in to her words, wanting, no, needing something to happen, anything after years of this constant stalemate, this strange game of cat and mouse between yourself and your best friend. You were constantly holding your breath around Bucky, waiting for something inevitable to happen. What that would be? You had no idea, but you couldn't do it anymore.

"...go on." You finally said, having made up your mind without realising. Natasha almost seemed surprised, but you weren't sure that was even possible. She nodded and gave you a smile.

"You wanna know if he was jealous? Give him a reason to be and then figure out if he is, that way, you'll have more of an idea of how he's feeling, and when it comes to talking to him about your feelings, you might actually do it this time. Plus, you might get some info on how to get him even more interested."

You thought over her words, still confused as to what her grand plan was, "And how might I do that exactly?"

"Say you've got a date, ask him for advice, play with him a little bit. Works every time, trust me."

She said it like it was no big deal, and you were stuck on the way her smirk widened when she said 'play with him a little bit'.

"I just told you I can't lie to him." You replied.

Natasha simply raised her eyebrow at you, "As if you haven't been lying to him since you were 15."

"Hey, that's not lying, it's just... concealing certain parts of the truth."

She tilted her head in your direction but you ignored her, turning away completely and crossing your arms over your chest with a huff.

"Don't lie then, tell him that your interested in some guy and play it off like your asking for advice. He doesn't have to know that he is said guy and its all a secret ploy to make his jaw clench again."

"Nat." You groaned.

"What?"

"Why would I ask him for advice though? He knows I'd go to you."

Nat sighed this time, frustrated with your excuses, "Tell him you wanted advice from a guy."

"But Steve-"

"Just do it! If he's actually jealous he'll be more focused on the fact that your trying to get into pants that aren't his." She raised her voice, dropping her wooden spoon into the simmering pot to turn to you, that Russian accent peaking through her words.

"Nat, I'm telling you now, he isn't jealous."

She almost started to argue, but then she spotted that dejected look in your eye and stopped herself, taking a deep breath to calm her frustrations and think of a good response, "Are you saying that because you believe it? Or because you want him to be jealous so bad you wish he wasn't, because you're terrified of losing him."

You went silent, staring down at the floor when you realised you had no response for her.

"Thought so." She said before shuffling closer, pulling you in for a hug, "Look babe, you need to stop worrying about what could happen, and just focus on what is happening right now. If you're not ready to tell him how you feel, you don't have to. Trying this won't hurt, and it won't hurt your friendship, okay? Go one step at a time, you're getting too ahead of yourself."

You thought about it for a while as you enjoyed the hug, before you pulled back and nodded, thanking her for the advice and apologising for being difficult, she only chuckled and began to dish up the food.

"No worries honey, I'm used to it."

It's not like you had ever said you'd actually do it, and you never exactly planned to. But Natasha's plan had started to loom over every interaction you had with Bucky, so much so that without realising you had started to avoid him, and that only made you feel worse.

It took a sleepless night of tossing and turning and missing your best friend like crazy when you finally made the decision. You can't do this forever, why not just say fuck it for once.

It started when Bucky had invited you to his place for a movie night, like he did every weekend, like he had the past two weekends where you had declined, but this time you said yes, and decided that this would be the night you tried to make him jealous.

You weren't proud of it, and a part of you felt incredibly guilty as you stood at his door and knocked. No matter how many times Natasha told you this was harmless, you still couldn't believe her.

"Are we knocking now? What happened to 'your place is my place'?" Bucky asked as he opened the front door to let you in, barely moving aside so your arm brushed against his when you walked past him.

"Ha ha. Just didn't know if it was locked or not." You punched his shoulder and he scrunched up his face in mock offense.

"Sure. Go sit down and pick a movie, I'm just getting some snacks ready." Bucky said, nodding to the couch before he turned and walked into the kitchen, black sweatpants so low on his hips you could just about see the waistband of his boxers, wearing a black t-shirt with his hair pulled back into the low bun you'd helped him learn how to do.

You nodded slowly, watching him walk away for a few seconds before rolling your eyes at your own idiotic behaviour and slumping down across Bucky's couch, the remote in your hand as you lazily flicked through Netflix.

"Any particular genre?" You shouted out to Bucky, who came out from the other room to shrug his shoulders at you.

"Like I said, doll, whatever you'd like. Only fair after I made you come with me to see that god-awful movie Pheobe forced me to watch."

You snorted a laugh, frowning when he walked away again, your mind wandering to the last time you went to the movies with Bucky, over a month ago now, when he had forced you to third-wheel his second date with 'Pheobe' for no apparent reason.

It was almost humiliating the way she had pulled you aside in the bathroom.

"I seriously don't mean to be rude but... why are you here?" Pheobe whispered, despite the fact that every stall was empty and Bucky was stood outside the building, but your face grew heated as the woman across from you voiced the exact question you'd been asking yourself all night, "Like, at first I thought you were a lesbian, but after that story you told earlier I'm assuming you're not, which is fine, but why are you here? I told Bucky this was a date. Does he really not like me at all?"

You were stumped, opening and closing your mouth like a blank-minded fish, searching for the answer that you didn't have, only coming up empty, "Honestly Phoebe, I have no idea. I'm sure he does like you, maybe he just wanted me to come to..."

"Maybe he just wanted to go on a date with you."

"What?!"

"You heard me. I think I'm the third-wheel here." Her voice went quiet, and you instantly felt bad.

"No, Pheobe. That's absurd, he's my best friend."

"You might want to re-think that."

"What did you pick?" Bucky asked, placing the bowl of popcorn in-between you as he sat down and you smiled at him, pushing away the memory.

"Twilight." You replied, sinking back into your seat as you grabbed and handful of popcorn and shovelled it into your mouth.

Bucky nodded as his eyes focused on the screen, his jawline prominent as he chewed, licking his lips of the salty flavouring, a light stubble on his jaw from not shaving in a few days-

"You good?"

You gulped loudly, taking a breath as you met his eyes, embarrassed that you'd been caught staring, "Yup." You said, nodding as you turned to look at the screen again, ignoring his amused chuckle.

Your mind wandered to the conversation you'd had with Natasha only hours ago.

'Don't overthink it, just bring it up when you get the chance, be casual about it'

No overthinking, casual. Easy. Maybe now would be a good time to bring it up, casually, without overthinking anything.

"Actually-" You started, clearing your throat when it immediately closed up and your fight or flight was begging to kick in, your mind instantly wondering to all of the negative repercussions this could-

You were definitely overthinking right now.

"Yes?" Bucky asked, still half watching the movie before he fully turned to face you, sensing that this sounded fairly serious.

Definitely not casual either.

"I wanted to uh, talk to you about something." The temptation to smack yourself on the forehead was growing unbearably stronger by the second, but you imagined that would probably raise some concern. Your hands twitched by your sides instead.

"What is it?"

"Well, it's kind of- I basically, well." You tried to awkwardly laugh it off, but sighed instead, just fucking say it, fucking lie to your best friend to find out if he's jealous, "There's this guy."

His eyebrows raised, lips parting, before he quickly snapped his mouth shut and furrowed his eyebrows, taking on a sort of clinical expression as he nodded, motioning for you to continue.

"He's uh... I really- like... him, and... he's..." You took a breath, too many pauses, "different, you know?"

He scrunched his face up, "Different? What does that even mean."

"I don't know I just-" You covered your face with your hands, regretting every decision that had led you to this point. "I really want him to like me."

It was quiet for a moment, and you wanted to peak at him, but couldn't.

Bucky sighed, hands gently taking hold of your wrists to pull your hands away from your face, "Look sweetheart, if he's really a smart guy, he'll already like you. Any person would be lucky to have you, you don't need to change for anyone."

You rolled your eyes at him but smiled nonetheless, "I know Buck, thank you. I just..."

Don't overthink it.

"I was wondering if maybe, you might give me some advice? I'm seeing him on Monday and I guess I just want to make him want me, you know?"

He paused, still holding onto your wrists, "Want you?"

"Yeah, you know like- I wanna know what guys really like. I want to make sure he'll never forget me. That sort of thing."

"Sweets, I don't know if you should be asking me that. Why don't you just talk to Natasha if it's that important." He said, letting go of your wrists and pulling away.

"Because I want to hear it from a guy, and Steve's far too awkward for this conversation. C'mon Buck, please. I want you to teach me."

"You want me to teach you?" He asked, more than slightly breathless, and you quickly realised that this sounded much less like getting advice for a guy you like and more trying to get info on what Bucky liked sex-wise.

You did not plan for it to go down that route, and you wondered if you should pull it back, change the subject and try this again another time, without getting too explicit, but the way Bucky had almost whispered those words, was driving you insane. You wanted this to go further. "Yeah, I want to give this guy the night of his life."

He clenched his jaw, and tried not to laugh at the situation, almost tempted to text Natasha at that very moment and break the news. 'Jaw has clenched, I repeat, the jaw has clenched'. You managed to keep that temptation under control, still finding the situation slightly humorous before you actually realised what this meant.

Holy fuck, he's jealous.

You knew now was as good a time as any to push further, and with your new-found realisation, came a new-found confidence, the nerves pushed to the back of your mind, the only thing left of them being the fluttering in your chest.

"What do you think I should wear?" You held back a smirk when he leaned forward in his seat, elbows rested on his knees as he dropped his face into his hands. You kept pushing, "Remember that green dress I wore to your birthday last year? Do you think I should wear that one? You'd think he'd like that? Would you like it if it were you?"

"What do you mean if it were me?"

You froze, your cheeks heating up, that heat spreading to your neck as you quickly tried to save yourself whilst keeping this strange relaxed smoothness to your voice. "If you went on a date with Pheobe, and she wore that dress, would you like it?" You asked, before deciding to push it even further. Natasha's voice echoed in your mind 'play with him a little', "Would you think about taking it off her?"

He didn't even hesitate to reply, turning his head to look at you as he continued to sit forward, an almost angered air to his words, "It wouldn't suit her."

"You don't like it? But I thought-"

"Yes, I liked the dress, you looked fucking gorgeous in it. It just would suit her." He urged, the words coming out in one breath, his voice straining over the final word as if it was physically uncomfortable to say, like he held a certain distaste for the word. Her.

You could sense the atmosphere in the room changing, warping with the darker, heavy feeling that radiated off the man you were teasing without him even realising it, and although you knew you should probably stop, that you were getting on his nerves and for some reason this seemed to be a touchy subject, that nagging, red-headed voice was seeping into your thoughts again, telling you to go further, so you continued to push.

"Would he like it do you think?" You asked, tilting your head, keeping that sickly sweet innocent look on your face, he sighed and closed his eyes, his tongue wetting his lips again, teeth biting at the soft skin.

"If he had half a brain he'd fucking love it." He breathed, eyebrows furrowing along the words 'fucking love it' and you knew exactly what he was thinking of, the picture he had in his head.

Your smile faded, watching the way he opened his eyes but kept them trained to his feet. That heat grew in your chest, that weight, that feeling, weaving its way around your heart and seeping into your bloodstream, it carried through your veins, and suddenly you had never felt closer to your teenage self than you did now, like she had pushed the older you aside and taken her place, because she knew this feeling, she was the only version of you to ever fully accept and admit it for what it was, that the reason she blushed so much when her best friend asked her to prom because he'd rather go with you than some random girl he didn't care about, was because you loved him, and of course you still do now, of course you do.

You thought of what Pheobe said that night, you thought of what Natasha was constantly telling you, or that time Steve accidentally slipped that Bucky had a crush on you when you were younger, and you looked at him now, quickly realising that it was never them who warped your idea of Bucky's feelings, it was you.

The feeling had encapsulated your entire being now, the realisation of yours and his feelings and you decided that you had both waited far too long if this is what you wanted.

And you wanted him.

So you continued to play, speaking with a much more serious air this time, you didn't smirk, you just watched him as you spoke.

"I guess that's settled then, I just need to know what to wear under it." You practically whispered it, the warm apartment feeling sweltering now.

"Fuck." He whispered to himself, dropping his head in his hands again, "What are you doing?"

He looked at you from his bent position, almost looking desperate. No, he did look desperate, and you hated and loved it at the same time, for two very different reasons, you understood exactly what he was feeling, having been a victim to his teasing one too many times.

You parted your lips to talk, thinking for a second that you might actually be upsetting him, but then his eyes dropped to watch the movement, staring at your lips as he released a breath.

"I'm asking you for advice, Buck." You said quietly, eyes darkening as you leaned closer, your nose almost touching his and his eyes dropped again, entranced by your lips, "What about kissing?"

His lips parted, eyes darting up to meet yours, but he made no move to go back, in fact, you realised with a feather-light touch of his nose to yours, that he had inched closer to you, "What?"

His eyes were soft as he waited for you to speak, no apprehension to be seen.

"I need to know how to kiss him, how guys like it, you know?" He moved back an inch, that not so subtle disappointment in his eyes, "How do you like to be kissed, Buck?"

He shook his head in a barely there movement, eyes still not leaving yours, swallowing roughly when he caught you looking at his lips.

You moved closer to him, filling that inch that he had put between you, your heart thumping faster in your chest when he did the same, like he was magnetised, he looked at your lips again and you decided to take the chance.

"Like this?" You asked, before filling the gap completely and your pressed your lips to his, kissing him soft and slow, your stomach fluttering when he didn't hesitate to reciprocate, kissing you back the exact way you were guiding him to, but you pulled back before letting it continue for long, his breath fanning out across your lips, you gaze fluttered to his eyes for a moment, "Or like this?"

You kissed him again, this time harder, more urgency in it, your right hand lifting to his shoulder before you slid it to the nape of his neck, a sudden desperate need for his lips on every inch of your skin overcoming your thoughts when his arms wrapped around your waist.

You pulled away again and he tried desperately hard to follow you, eyes opening to voice his frustration when you wouldn't let him.

But you brushed your thumb across his bottom lip, silencing him, "Or maybe like this."

This, this was definitely the one.

You kissed him soft and slow, but this time parted your lips to brush your tongue across his, relishing in the noise that escaped him when you did so, and the way he then did the same to you, parting his lips in a way that breathed hot air into the kiss.

You were so enraptured with the taste of him that you barely even noticed when he pulled you onto his lap, your knees digging into the couch on either side of him. You only realised when his thighs between yours had suddenly stopped your ability to squeeze your thighs together in hopes of relieving that throbbing ache that had formed between them.

This kiss continued much longer than you had planned it to, forgetting what you were going to do next, but you didn't mind much, too caught up in the way his lips were so stupidly soft and his tongue was hot and wet, and his hands were huge and grasping at your clothes with a desperation so similar to the way you pulled his hair.

You pulled away again, much to his dismay as he practically growled and rolled his eyes in frustration. He rested his head back against the couch and licked his kiss swollen lips.

You needed more, barely letting yourself think about the fact that you had just kissed Bucky, The Bucky, Your Bucky.

"What about this, Buck? You like it when a girl does this?" You asked and he frowned, looking up at you in almost annoyed confusion, opening his mouth to speak but then you moved forward on his lap, sitting in a way that your core was pressed against his, his cock twitching in his sweatpants when you rolled those hips of yours, the annoyance and confusion faded and he reached for your hips, eyes fluttering shut when you made the movement again, biting your lip when it stimulated your clit, "Do you think you could come from this, Bucky? Or would you need more? Would you want my hand, or my mouth? Or would you just be begging to fuck me at this point."

He groaned at practically every question, his hands holding your hips as you grinded yourself on him, his cock now achingly hard as his hips started to lift slightly.

"Fuck, sweetheart, what is this? Why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice urgent and needy as he forced himself to stay still under you, gripping your hips tighter to signal for you to stop your movements, much to either of your dismay, "Please tell me this isn't all for some fuckin' guy."

You froze, confused for a second, before realising he still had no idea, and that guilt you had shoved away creeped back in.

Your heart was in your throat as you finally told him the truth, "It is, but he's you Buck. It was always you, it's always been you."

His lips parted, eyes widening slightly at what you had just confessed to him, "I'm the guy you were asking me advice about?"

"Well yeah, who else am I gonna get better advice about what you like from? Better to hear it from the horses mouth, eh?" You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders as you watched him huff a laugh with a shake of his head.

"Natasha, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow but you didn't respond, probably looking very guilty of his accusation, "Well, I guess I should tell you that we may have been two-timed by her. She actually gave me the very same advice a few months ago, I just never had the guts to take it as far as you did."

"You talk to Nat about me?" You teased, but he only smiled gently, soft eyes watching you.

"Of course I do, how could I not tell her all about the girl I've been in love with since I was 15." He confessed quietly, blush reddening his cheeks, "God, she must be sick of me talking about you."

You laughed quietly, trying not to settle into the disbelief of it all and instead focus on your excitement, that teenage girl inside of you was screaming with glee and kicking her feet. You didn't let realisation that James Barnes just confessed he'd loved you the whole time you'd loved him be tainted with regret about wasted time.

"She must be sick of us both, I've been doing the same thing ever since I met her."

He smiled at you and you smiled back, pressed your forehead against his.

"What do we do now?" You asked, still very much feeling the physical after-effects of your intense make-out session.

Bucky huffed a laugh, "I'd love to say go to the bedroom, but not yet, I think we should work up to that."

You nodded and smiled, understanding what he meant and feeling thankful he was able to voice it for you, "Agreed."

"We could do this for a while longer though, still got four and a half twilight movies left to go." Bucky joked, his fingers finding their way under your shirt to brush against soft skin.

"Hm, sounds like an excuse to make out with your best friend all night."

"Maybe it is." He whispered back before he kissed you again, using his hand on your back to press you against him.

It felt so natural to the both of you, your bodies fitting together perfectly, no awkwardness or anxiety. You knew you'd both need to talk properly soon, but that could wait a few movies more, for now you could settle with kissing him until you ran out of air.

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folder-stuff · 11 months

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I steamed with these drawings for a long time, but it was worth it.

When I drew the designs of the guardians, all sorts of ideas came to mind about what happened while Cornelia lived in Meridian. I really like what I came up with, and I'll try to explain why I drew it all at all.

In general, as you know, in this alternative, Cornelia went with Caleb to Meridian, leaving her family and friends, as well as the post of a guardian. This event has greatly shaken Will's confidence in herself as a leader who is obliged to unite girls. Especially after the arch with Nerissa, where she almost lost the Heart of Kandrakar. And don't forget about Taranee's doubts, because of which she even left the team in the canon. In general, Will had reasons to give the leader's place to a new member of the team - Orube. "Maybe someone else can handle it better?" she thought.

At first, it seemed to be a good idea to run away from responsibility. However, girls didn't think so. No one recognized Orube as a leader for many reasons, one of which was Will's authority as the previous head. And when the girls were looking for support in her, she couldn't provide it, because she's not as solid as Orube or Cornelia. Will is a sensitive nature, the heart of the team, not its foundation, and she isn't able to return everyone from heaven to earth because of her character.

Hence the main conflict was born: Will couldn't cope with the role of the guardian of the earth, since she wasn't able to take the position of Cornelia in the team. She felt out of place and understood that she used to be more effective. Against the background of the defeat that has already happened after Cornelia's departure and Taranee's doubts, this aggravated the feeling of failure, inferiority complex and hesitation. Confidence is the main quality of the guardian of the earth, and she lost it without even starting to develop in herself.

This is where the main dilemma began: she wanted the leader's place back. But not only because she realized her incompetence as a guardian of the earth. It's also about the Heart of Kandrakar. From the very moment of Orube's appearance and the transfer of the Heart, Will heard its call, at first barely perceptible, but growing stronger every day. With the understanding of where she really belonged, Will missed the feeling of unity with the Heart of Kandrakar, with its warmth and power. And it scared her. Because she began to see Nerissa in herself, to hear her phrases in her head and to dream that she's turning into a recently defeated enemy...

This is exactly what I wanted to convey in my first work: the binding vines that strangle Will and don't allow her to move; the imitation of the Heart of Kandrakar, which no longer belongs to her; fear from the desire to possess what she can no longer possess.

I hope I have enough strength to make a post about Orube, because I did the drawing for a long time and was a little tired =_=

In the second picture, I wanted to show Will's routine and her new powers. She conjures only plants, often flowers, as it's more difficult for her to cope with heavy stones and hard earth. This is due to fading self-confidence and lack of firmness in actions and decisions. She's effective in combat, but things don't always work out the way she intended, which makes her angry at the plants, as if they're a computer hanging at the wrong moment. She had to learn to cope with vines and flowers so that they were useful.

Also, these plants often get in the way and grow when and where it isn't necessary. For example, they can cling to the legs and grow while Will sleeps.

#w.i.t.c.h.#w.i.t.c.h. fanart #w.i.t.c.h comics #w.i.t.c.h. will #will vandom

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mari-lair · 7 months

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I posted my overall view of what is going on, and how Teru's mistake was trusting him so much he practically ignored that Akane is part of the clock keepers: Here

But I want to drive home just how much trust Teru is showing Akane, cause it is exactly as you said Anon "It didn't cross Teru's mind that he should be wary of Akane"

Let's set the stage: Teru is a supernatural expert, but he doesn't know anything about the clock keepers boundary, he doesn't even know how to enter it, Akane is the one giving all the exposition in this arc.

So from the start, Teru is dependent on Akane, and he is okay with it. He doesn't act uptight and tense to be in an unknown boundary, owned by very powerful supernaturals.

He acts borderline careless, letting Hanako escape, and curious about what catches his eye, not hesitating to grab that strange owl wing: Must be harmless since Akane is holding it after all.

He follows Akane's lead: When Akane says "Follow the bird" Teru obeys, no questions asked.

He is fully focusing ahead, where there are no threats to be seen, so he is relaxed, because Akane has his back.

This belief does not die when Akane hits him, he mostly seem surprised, as if he didn't expect a supernatural to go unnoticed by Akane and hit his back.

Which is a slap in the face, cause Akane held his arm, he went straight for his weakness.

Teru has a hand on his sword at all time even when he isn't really in attack/danger mode, just in this chapter we can see it a few times.

And despite Akane holding his arm (so gently too) and him being a smart person, Teru does not immediately connect the dots, not realizing that the reason he didn't get any warning from Akane is because it was Akane himself attacking.

He only switched from "an attack?? I need to defend myself/attack back" and enters into a betrayed rage when he sees with his own eyes Akane is the culprit.

Teru trusts him a lot.

And Akane knows.

The idea of putting him on trial makes him distressed. Sad. Guilty.

He can't even face him.

He originally didn't restrain Teru. He was satisfied taking a step back after marking Teru and seemed like he was going to leave it at that, even apologizing for putting the mark in the first place.

He only restrained him because teru was trying to kill him.

And at no point does he fight Teru back he just defends and dodges. He will do his damn clock keeper duty, but he won't hurt Teru or betray him in any way he has any control over.

#tbhk #teru minamoto #aoi akane #akane aoi #jshk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #minamoto teru #tbhk spoilers #toilet bound hanako kun #terukane #tbhk 108 #romantic or platonic i do not care they are important to me

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i-heart-hxh · 1 month

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During the shinju scene,meleoron mentions theres something killua cant tell him, what is it that killua couldnt tell him?

from what i seen,shinjuu isnt always romantic,was it he couldnt tell meleoron he was going to die w gon because of his romantic feelings

The line

meleoron:‘if you joking,whyd u have that incredibly sad look on ur face(talking about when he was observing killua with gon)’ ‘you cant tell me,so i wont ask’ or in different translations its ‘cant you tell me?’ But in the original japanese its about being unable to tell somebody something

Hello!

So, I decided to just post (most of) these two pages because I think seeing the art and layout of the actual pages helps with understanding exactly what's going on and also analyzing it. I also went and looked at the pages in Japanese just to see if anything stood out. Aside from the famous shinjuu line, the translation seems fine.

Just to summarize and be clear before I launch into further analysis: In this scene, Killua says (with a rather dark expression) that the worst case scenario is he and Gon die together in a lovers suicide. Killua sees that Meleoron is rather vexed/taken aback/discouraged by this response and doesn't know what to say, so then Killua immediately claims he's just kidding and that they'll be okay after all, and he knows how to snap Gon out of it.

Meleoron then internally doubts that Killua is kidding about this, because he was there when Gon said the "It has nothing to do with you," (essentially) line that pushed Killua away, and he saw how heartbroken Killua looked by that. He then decides it's not worth asking because Killua clearly doesn't want to be honest about his feelings, he can't or won't express what he's going through, so he backs off.

I'm glad you brought this up because it's a piece of the whole shinjuu scene that people don't talk about as much, but this whole exchange and Togashi bothering to show Meleoron's reaction to it in the first place says a lot about the importance of the scene. If Meleoron didn't pause and connect this to Killua's earlier heartbroken moment (and notice how it takes up literally half of the page--it's important!), it would be easy to read on past it without thinking about it more deeply.

In other words, this further exchange with Meleoron is emphasis. It's there so the readers don't simply gloss over what Killua said about the shinjuu, and so the readers understand that he means it, that no matter what he says to the contrary, Killua is in fact serious about this possibility. It's there to slow things down enough so the readers can reflect on and ask their own questions about the situation.

I'm sure this is why Togashi bothered to put Meleoron in the scene with Gon pushing Killua away in the first place--there was no other reason for him to be there, other than being an observer of this moment and standing in to ask these questions.

Meleoron--an outside observer without as much context for Gon and Killua's relationship as the rest of us--wonders what's going on here, why Killua looked utterly destroyed by a few simple words. But because he saw Killua's immediate urge to lie and say it's a joke when he hesitated, he knows Killua won't open up to him about exactly what's going on, why Killua was so devastated by what Gon said to him and why Killua intends to do a teen lovers suicide with his best friend if all goes badly. Meleoron is definitely pointing out (in his view, anyway) that there are feelings behind this that Killua is unable and unwilling to talk about. Is he implying they're romantic feelings? I mean...

This happens so much in Chimera Ant arc around Killua's feelings. Togashi leaves it open-ended, doesn't spell it out blatantly, but it seems like the question is being asked over and over again--what exactly are the nature of Killua's feelings for Gon, anyway? And there keep being these moments where the concept of romantic love is conjured in some form in connection with or around this unspoken question being asked, like multiple instances in the Palm subplot I've talked about a bunch of times now. (Linking to that post in particular because it links to a lot of other Palm subplot related posts.)

Even the way Killua asks if Gon considers him a friend or a comrade, asking What are we? basically is essentially a shoujo trope--and especially how it was presented, very dramatic with a lot of focus and emphasis on Killua's internal turmoil around asking the question.

There are just so many times in this arc where emphasis gets placed on a question of, What are your feelings for Gon anyway, Killua? in an indirect way, including this moment with Meleoron. It's repeated so many times and there are so many instances where there's some subtext around or even direct mention of romantic love hovering around these questions, it's basically daring the audience to answer.

It's true that shinjuu can be non-romantic in some cases, however the word choice is meaningful. Togashi knows what the implications of it are, especially in a literary sense. He could have chosen other ways to phrase this, he could have opted not to use this word in particular. If it was presented completely in isolation from any other romantic subtext, there would be more of an argument to be had for it just being included in a platonic sense, but with how much repeated romantic subtext there is with Gon and Killua's relationship to begin with...I think the word choice is very intentional.

I hope that answers your question!

#hunter x hunter #hxh #killugon #gonkillu #gon #killua #meleoron #meta #my posts #asks #anonymous #long post

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ever-eilish · 3 months

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hi! I'd love to see how you'd write chishiya. :)

If you don't have many ideas--maybe a simple scenario where the reader has night terrors and sleeps better with someone. So, she kinda just knocks on Chishiya's door, fully expecting him to dismiss her but he actually agrees.

If you want to turn it into smut, you do you!

Good night

chishiya x fem!reader

when sleepless nights are more common than usual, a very familiar face helps with the terror that comes when the sun goes down

author's notes: so, this is the very first imagine that l post on tumblr! I'm excited to know what you guys think about it :) thank you so much for requesting, I hope this is what you wanted!!! english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, enjoy❤️‍🩹

warnings: none! just fluff ;)

Sweat dripped from my forehead and I could feel my heart pounding in my ribcage. Tears were forming in my eyes and my breathing was. heavy. The feeling of exhaustion gnawed at me more and more, but now it was impossible to close my eyes and rest again. Ever since I arrived in this place, I have had dreams - or rather, nightmares - every night. At first, I was able to go back to sleep; but the nightmares are getting worse. What was once just a distant image of all the horrors I've experienced here, are now people screaming and running after me.

"Murderer! Murderer!" They scream as they run towards me, with disfigured faces and bloody bodies.

I can't run, it's almost like my feet betray me and refuse to move. I get up from my bed and walk towards the door. I don't have time to think straight when I stand in front of Chishiya's bedroom door; again feeling betrayed by my own feet.

My relationship with Chishiya is complicated, we don't really like each other. It all started with a stupid game, in which only he and I made it out alive. However, what should be a reason for rapprochement, has become a reason for repulsion.

I don't know exactly why, maybe he just didn't really liked me, but I know that since then we've gone into a strange spiral of competition. In which every time I come back from a game he looks at me with that look of superiority that I hate so much, and acts as if the fact that I survived another game was a surprise; obviously, I do the same to him.

I can't quite figure it out, maybe for a subconscious reason, or maybe because he's the only familiar face on the beach, but now I'm knocking on his door.

I regret my decision the moment I put it into action, after all, it was obvious that he would not open the door.

Or maybe he'd even open the door and when he looked at my face, he'd give another one of his smirks and close the door. Or maybe he would even insult me for waking him up in the middle of the night just because I needed comfort. Maybe I should just go back to my room and spend another sleepless night trapped in my own thoughts. I was going back to my room when I hear the door open.

I turn around again and see the blond-haired man's face staring at me intensely, with a questioning look. An awkward silence ensues as I stare at him wide-eyed.

"I-I..." I can't finish my sentence.

Idiot, idiot, idiot! Why the fuck did I think it would be a good idea to show up at the door of the last person who would want to be woken up by me?

"You...?" he says, raising an eyebrow and looking in my direction. His eyes showed no judgment, but rather pure confusion.

"I had a nightmare, and..." onde again, I was not able to finish my sentence "I'll just go back to my room! Sorry if I bothered you!"

I and turn to go to my room again when I feel a warm hand touch my arm.

Something about that simple touch was different, it was almost as if with just one touch, he could soothe all my demons.

"Come in" he says in an indifferent tone, giving me room to enter his room. With a little hesitation I walk towards the room.

The place smelled of cinnamon, with a slight touch of sweetness. It was organized, and somehow I felt that Chishiya's room was a good representation of his personality; cold and not so cozy, but at that moment, that was all I needed.

"Are you going to stand there, or are you going to lie down?" he says, walking over to his king-size bed in the middle of the room. It was only at that moment that I noticed that he wasn't wearing his usual sweatshirt, but just a black t-shirt and sweatpants of the same a color.

I walk towards his bed and sit on the right side, suddenly feeling that my fingers were much more interesting than staring at the piercing brown eyes that were looking at me curiously.

"I don't bite" he says, again in an indifferent tone, and I look in his direction, noticing that he was now lying on his back "you can lie down, you look tired"

So I do as he says and lie on my back as well, staring at the dull white ceiling. The situation should be uncomfortable, and I should be wishing I could get out of here as soon as possible, but instead, I felt comforted by the warmth emanating from the body of the man lying just inches from me, and I wondered how long it had been since I felt such comfort.

"So, nightmares, right?" he asks and turns his head in my direction

"Yes, I guess"

"And may I know why you chose to come here?" he asks me.

His tone was not accusatory, but curious. What am I supposed to answer, anyway? I'm not even sure what I'm doing here.

"I have no idea" I answer honestly, and hear a faint laugh from my side, still refusing to look into his eyes. The room is silent again and I feel him moving on the bed to turn off a simple lamp with yellowish light arranged on the small table next to him, a lamp that I didn't even notice was on.

Now, with the total darkness, I can't help but feel more comfortable, my eyes heavy. It was suddenly, so suddenly that I almost couldn't believe it, that I felt Chisiya's arm go over my shoulders and pulling me slightly closer; Now, my head is millimeters away from his chest, and his arms are clinging to me, with his hand making small circular motions on my forearm. I don't dare say anything, I just let myself relax, snuggle into his embrace and focus on the circular drawings he made with his fingers on my skin, as I feel my eyes close and my body fall into a much-needed sleep.

Maybe it's the only time l've really been able to sleep well since I've been here.

Little did I know, that this was also the only time Chishiya had been able to sleep well since arriving in this hell.

#fanfic #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #chishiya x reader #write #aib chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x you #chishiya x y/n #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya fanfic #nijiro murakami #alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader

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stuck1nthelimbo · 6 months

Text

im so normal about them — 📌 post | masterlist | ko-fi

4 》(Nipple play) - Gagging - Hickey/biting marks ― Breakup High [Getou Suguru x f!reader]

When Satoru breaks up with his gf, who's supposed to console her other than his best friend, Suguru? And consoling includes more than reassuring words...

TAGS!!! 2.1k, no beta reader, gojo's ex sleeps with his bestie, unprotected/no condom sex, hickeys/bite marks, teasing, licking cum, slight nipple/breast play, pussy drunk suguru lol

pookie, desperate suguru??? who wanted satoru's gf??? since the moment they met??? these two posts are giving me desperate vibes

It’s been a week since he broke up with me, and instead of feeling heartbroken, I can’t believe he had the guts to do so. This ego of mine couldn’t handle being humbled by the man, who asked me out first. After the breakup, to my surprise, the person who lent me a helping hand was none other than Gojo Satoru’s best friend, Suguru Geto. I woke up to a text the following day with consoling words and an offer to hang out with me to keep me company and my mind — occupied. I took midnight walks with Suguru, divulging my worries to him. After a meeting or two, he confessed to having a teeny tiny crush on me since meeting me through Gojo. I wondered how many times he had jerked off to the thought of me.

“Still can’t wrap my head around it,” I scoff, crossing arms over my chest, one leg over the other, and lean back in a chair while a raven-haired male brews coffee in the kitchen. He doesn’t turn around, merely throws a glance over the shoulder. Tied-up hair subtly bounces around, the bangs dangling about.

“Come on, don’t look into it too much,” he doesn’t sound reassuring, just annoyed with the repeating topic. I’m preoccupied studying his back, he hums some lullaby. The outline of his broad shoulders is visible through the plain white shirt; He has awful timing in choosing gray sweatpants. Or if we take into account that he was expecting me to show up at his flat, he is perfectly aware of how to create a ‘comforting environment’ for a person with a broken heart.

“He broke up with me and still cannot leave me alone. We hang out so much,” Geto thinks he can click his tongue without me noticing. As he turns around, I spot the paper-thin line his lips have formed.

“You guys still hang out?” he huffs.

“Remember when I was texting you the other night?” I refer to the event a few nights ago. He gently places the cups filled with piping hot coffee on the table and raises an eyebrow in anticipation of an answer. “I went to his place, we drank,” I hesitate to mention the affair that took place, “and then had sex. I texted you while he was asleep beside me,” the change in his facial expressions is apparent: the soft gaze turns into a mean glare in a split second. He clutches the cup handle between his thumb and index fingers.

“Don’t you have any self-respect?” He sneers before bringing the coffee cup to his lips.

“Why? Cuz I sleep with my ex?”

“Exactly,” he leans forward, hissing through his teeth as if we’re surrounded by people in his empty apartment. “You’re sleeping with a man who broke up with you, still clinging to him,” I have my reasons, “Any man would gladly sleep with you.” In response to his indignant comments, I also lean, keeping my face a centimetre from his.

“I’m not clinging to him, just looking for a replacement,” I sip my coffee, basking in its deliciousness until I notice the glassy stare Suguru’s giving me. Head hanging low, he observes me from under the furrowed brows. I think he’s mindlessly upset with me until the contrast between his large cold palm and my warm thigh snaps me out. Those long fingers bluntly dig into my supple flesh. He has never been this bold.

“And I said, any man would eagerly take Satoru’s place, ok?” alluding to the availability in the middle of the conversation, the sheer confidence in his moves prowls a shiver up my spine, “You don’t need to beg…”

“Who would take his place?” the tension in the room can be cut with a knife. His mouth noticeably agape, his eyes hungrily wander all over me, making my skin tingle with excitement. Their final stop is around my lips. Before he’s finished daydreaming, I grab his face, squeezing cheeks and leveling his eyes with mine, “who?”

“Oh, you know damn well,” he mutters through puckered lips; My heart drums in my chest when his eyes scurry across my face, his lips pouting stronger as I grasp his face. My unoccupied hand lingers around his stiffened shoulder, sensing the muscles gradually strain under the path of my fingertips.

His jet-black eyes stare unfocused, stunned, as both arms envelop my waist, open palms firmly press on the back, pushing me onto his lap. Geto’s hot breath spills all over my jaw, goosebumps prickle it, and his coffee-stained lips skim along the skin. The caution in his moves thins out my patience.

“I can fuck your brains out better than him,” he mumbles against my ear, securely holding me against his lap and shoving the pants-straining erection onto me. How long did he wait for this opportunity? A large hand swats my ass, I wince at the sensation and glance over the shoulder; His digits dig into the flesh, gliding under the fabric of my shorts, until the tip of his middle finger brushes against the underwear. I hold my breath, shifting attention to the hand that eagerly kneads my pliable ass cheeks.

“Geto,” I fake a protest, attempting to distance myself from him, but his arms bind tighter around me; He groans at the sound of his last name: I make it sound so formal, meanwhile my hips instinctively roll on his lap with legs spread apart.

“Don’t call me that,” he objects with a weak pout. I lean back as far as possible, hold his face between my hands, and goad him.

“Suguru,” I've never referred to him by his first name; His eyes luster, one hand sinks further into the supple flesh of my ass, the other sidles through my hair and forces me into a greedy kiss. His tongue slithers into my mouth, lapping against mine. Steamy fog clouds my judgment, dissipating the remaining scraps of thoughts as I cling to him, throwing arms over his shoulder and linking fingers behind Suguru’s head. He breaks the kiss, short-winded, lips glistening with thin threads of saliva.

“Say that again,” his eyes glued to my lips, he babbles. I repeat, enunciating each syllable of his name. He leaps to his feet and hurries to the bedroom, I lock my legs around his waist, preventing myself from slipping off of him. Blindly swinging open the bedroom door with an open hand, his mouth feasts on my neck with vehement hunger, scattering violet blotches across my shoulders and throat.

I ease the locked legs behind him, slump back onto the bed, and throw arms in the air, awaiting him.

He crawls on top, messily yanking clothes off of me, tossing them on the floor. Grabbing the neck of the white shirt, Geto pulls it over his head, before he closes the distance between us: planting light kisses around my lips, he decides to move down, softly tracing down the jawline, neck, and chest. His teeth tug on the perky nipple, drawing whimpers from me. Suguru’s breath on the damp skin electrifies my body.

“Fuck, I wanted to do this for a long time,” he speaks under his breath, in hopes that I won't hear it. His hands fumble with my shorts, jerking them off my knees. Suguru’s lips return to adorn my skin with pecks under the navel, while his fingers hesitate to remove the underwear. The digits circle the clit through the flimsy fabric, driving me mad. The pressure’s just right, but the rhythm’s off, making me arch my back.

“Suguru, please,” it doesn’t take me long to whine, I’m impatient, and he snickers against my stomach; His hand reaches for the condoms on the nightstand, and instantaneously I smack it away. He has an unopened box of condoms, so either he has been expecting me to give in or– “It’s fine, just do it,” I croak. My fingers slip between the waistband and his flushed skin, stretching the sweatpants down, followed by his erection springing out: for someone who seems timid and bashful, the girthy cock clashes with his rosy-cheeked face and eagerness.

“Are you sure?” Suguru’s voice wavers, his digits hooking on my underwear, until I slide it to the side without pulling them off, exposing my dripping slit. His ears redden, and the embarrassment seeps into my shoulders when he stares at my nude figure, savoring the sight. I gasp, hold my breath, as the head of his cock nudges against the entrance and feel my inner walls stretch to accommodate him. He’s painstakingly slow, relishing the sensation of a cunt fluttering around him. Suguru’s mouth agape, half-lidded eyes stare into mine, he repeatedly mutters the word ‘fuck’ and I feel some sort of accomplishment. The moment he bottoms out, his groin pressing against me, his head buries in the crook of my neck, “God, I've dreamt about this,” the words slip through his rugged breathing.

With lazy slams, Geto rolls hips, his fingering holding on my thighs for their dear life; My brain decides to shut down: I lay head back into the pillow, close my eyes and fully immerse myself in heavenly passion. Those strong hands hold my hips still, as he shoves his full length inside me, before entirely sliding out and repeating several times. My cunt spasms on Suguru’s cock, I feel the veins running along his manhood throb against my walls, scraping the remaining sanity out of me.

“Fuck, faster,” I beg; He’s here to torture me and atone for my mistakes; Peeking under the lashes, I witness his pathetic expression, furrowed brows, clenched jaw, air whistling through the teeth while his eyes affixed on the spot where we’re connected.

“You’re so fuckin’ good, baby,” the words spill out of him piece by piece, scattering as he rolls his hips vigorously, hands clasped to my sides tighten, gradually bruising the skin underneath the digits; Geto’s arms flex, burly muscles clearly protrude; He rams his cock in me, the sound of damp skins smacking against each other echoes in the room. He leans forward, latching his lips around the perky nipple, sucking it like his livelyhood depends on it. My cunt clings to his cock, and with each thrust, he loses the composure: front teeth gently tug on the nipple, afterwards, he feverishly nibbles on the flesh around it, creeping up til those canine teeth sink into my neck. His hips don’t let up, rutting into my without a trace of coherence.

The rougher he gets, the quicker the ecstatic pleasure builds in the pit of my stomach; Within a minute or two, my finger desperately circles my clit, and the coil of orgasm unravels under the navel, washes throughout every fiber of my being. I attempt to cover my mouth and stifle my moans, but he swats it off, instead his hand holds my jaw, and his lips lock with mine. I helplessly mewl against his tongue.

Geto’s legs jitter, he frenziedly pulls out, to my disappointment, and with a few eager pumps, his palm squeezes the base as the ropes of white creamy fluid shoot on my body. He hoarsely pants, low whimpers sneaking in between the deep wheezes. My legs still tremble from the aftershock.

Spent, Suguru slumps at my side, his arm rests over his forehead, nostrils flare as he regains steady breathing. I prop myself on elbows, line index finger on my stomach, scooping the milky substance on, and smearing it on my tongue.

“What a waste,” the eyes that have been glued to me, widen in shock; The laugh reverberates from his throat.

“Fuck, don’t do that, I’ll get hard again,” Suguru pulls himself up and off bed, tiptoeing to the nightstand on the other side. He hands me a couple of wet napkins, and with one in hand, glides it on my skin. As he’s eagerly cleaning up the hot mess he has created, my eyes burn holes on his face, delighted by the sight. Sculpted jawline, rose-tinted lips, silky black hair curtaining the pale face. Hand reaches under his chin, but the doorbell at the door snatches his beauty away from my fingers.

“You get the door, I’ll clean up,” I insist, crumpling the napkin.

A slim hand turns the doorknob, and to his surprise, the white-haired male grins from ear to ear. Without an invitation, the guest barges inside, leaving the host to hang open his mouth in silent response.

“Did I interrupt anything?” his long finger points at raven haired’s blotched neck with a vile grin. But before long, a smile fades from his face, he turns the head frantically and sniffs around, “the perfume,” his eyes bounce from the kitchen to the bedroom door.

“Satoru,” Geto’s voice breaks, lodges in his throat as Gojo swings the door wide open, only to be left with the sight of me, fully nude, prancing in front of the mirror, neck adorned with Suguru's desperation.

“Suguru…”

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thefreakandthehair · 1 year

Text

eddie is very emotionally attached to his hair. he loves the look, obviously, but also loves using it as a shield. he plays with it when he needs to fidget, he pulls pieces in front of his face when he’s flustered or nervous, he sweeps it over his shoulders to hide his face from time to time. it’s a built-in barrier and ever since he’d grown it out at around 15, he’d sworn to never go back. eddie’s hair make him feel safe.

that is, until he wakes up in the hospital post-upside down to find it cut short. too short-- can’t-twirl-or-play-with-it short. once the shock and relief of oh fuck, I’m alive, thanks steve, wears off, he laments the loss.

"steve, it took me years to grow it out. I’ll be 25 by the time it’s back where it was!" he admits during a rare moment when it's just the two of them in his hospital room. the machines beep evenly and steve sighs from his position in the hard, wood-backed chair next to the bed.

"man, I get it. my nickname was the goddamn hair for awhile, so I know it's a part of you but it'll grow back, right? and--"

"yeah yeah, I know it will, that's not the problem. it’s— ugh, forget it.” eddie instinctively reaches to pull his hair over his left shoulder to hide his face and is reminded of what the problem really is. he feels exposed and seen in a way that he can’t control and it makes his skin crawl-- particularly that it's steve harrington he feels so seen by, and he frankly has too many other crises going on to unpack that at the moment.

steve, for all of the ‘dumb jock’ jokes tossed his way, is perceptive. you don't survive high school in hawkins and four end-of-the-worlds without a dash of social intelligence, after all. so when he sees eddie reach for his hair like a phantom limb, he starts putting puzzle pieces together.

"why don't you want people to see you?"

eddie freezes with his hands falling to his chest, the IV in one hand pulling a bit at his skin. "that's not... I don't ... nothing, it's nothing." he sputters, unsure how steve has gotten such a fucking read on him.

"hey, I mean, I get it. kind of, at least? after the last few fights knocked my brain around, I've gotten some gnarly scars and bruises and I uh, I don't really swim or go around shirtless anymore because of it. I know that's probably not exactly the same but... yeah. I can understand. want me to get you a wig?"

steve watches as eddie slowly turns to look at him, and more importantly, to let steve look at him and his hesitant smile with furrowed eyebrows.

"why are you telling me all this?" eddie wants to think it's more than steve being steve, more than him just looking out, that it's personal. that maybe he likes eddie. hell, there must've been a reason he and wayne were the only two in the room when he woke up. and it clearly hadn't been the first time, given how close steve and wayne seem to be now. he'd pretended to be annoyed about their banter over the chicago cubs but really? it gave eddie a glimpse of something he wanted so badly, it made him ache. but that couldn't be it.

eddie's heart monitor beeps a little faster when steve reaches out to place a hand on top of his. steve looks up at the screen and back down to their hands with a small, hopeful smile.

"you're one of us now." steve shrugs and replies simply, as if that answers any of eddie's burning questions. he doesn't want to overwhelm him, but Steve can't help some good-natured Harrington flirting. "and it'd be a real shame for you to keep hiding that blush."

there's something here, steve thinks, a reason he wants eddie to let him look, to let him see, to keep making him blush from his neck to his nose. he'll give it time though. after all, the danger is gone-- they're here, and alive, and the world is safe, and they've got nothing but time to watch eddie's curls grow back.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #this is a projection because my hair is waist-length and i will never cut it short #for these reasons #oops sorry eddie i gave you a new personality trait #myfic #this is not edited #i just wanted something soft and cute after writing a rough chapter of over the hills and far away lmao #myblurbs

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katethewriter · 2 years

Text

Wish We Could Be Like That

Part Two

Pairing: WandaNat x fem!Reader

Words: 5k~

Summary: Your relationship with Natasha and Wanda is a secret, but does it have to be?

Based on the song “Secret Love Song” by Little Mix

Warnings: curse words, sexual themes, implied cheating, everybody’s mean to Reader, rushed writing

A/N: hi friends, sorry this is later than I wanted to drop it. I was doing my last read through and decided to completely scrap and rework and entire scene. Not sure why I’m so much more nervous posting this part than I was with part one. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

********Font Cheat Sheet:********

~Song Lyrics~

*thoughts*

Dream Sequence

**********************************

Part One Part Two Part Three

~When you call her name...

...like you do when you’re with me~

It’s a lazy afternoon.

Most everyone is out of the compound, on missions or running errands. So no one noticed the three of you hide away in Wanda and Nat’s shared bedroom all day. It started with watching a movie, but roaming hands and stray kisses quickly distracted the three of you.

As it got later, Wanda volunteered to get dressed long enough to go grab something from the kitchen, allowing you and Nat to lay around the room.

“Say it again,” you lie face down on the bed with Wanda’s pillow beneath your head.

Behind you, Nat delicately runs her fingers along your bare back, every now and again her fingers circle a purple mark left by one of them.

“Say what?” her touch ghosts over a particularly dark mark.

“My name.”

She smiles, “Y/n.”

“No, say it like you did earlier…” …*like you say Wanda’s* you think to yourself.

Her movements halt. Silence hangs in the air. Her brain calculates, trying to decipher what it is you’re asking for. You worry you’ll have to explain what you mean, and you know you won’t be able to voice it. Luckily, it clicks in her mind, and she resumes tracing patterns onto your skin.

“Y/n”

Her Russian inflection rolls off her tongue and wraps around the name. You hum happily.

Both of your girlfriends have lost their accents completely. Wanda’s Sokovian dialect comes out occasionally when she’s upset or sleepy. Natasha’s never slips, except for one place. You’ve only ever heard it twice before today. Both times three of you were in bed. Both times she was saying Wanda’s name.

Earlier today, she called your name in that way for the first time.

Natasha leans down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Y/n,” she says it again in, before pressing her lips to your skin again, “Y/n.” She continues this way across your back and up to you neck.

You wonder if Natasha noticed that today was the first time. Did she know that one word stopped your heart and gave it a reason to beat at the exact same time?

“What are you thinking about?” she whispers against your ear.

You turn over to find her looking down at you. The evening light reflects off her red hair. She looks like an angel. You reach up to play with her hair delicately, “you.”

One corner of her mouth curls into a half smile, “good things, I hope.”

You nod, smile beaming, “all good things.”

~does it feel the same?~

The elevator rises several floors before coming to a halt. The doors open, and the rush of cool night air indicates you are on the roof. Your girlfriends blindfolded you in the hallway outside your room. When you asked where they were taking you, they would only say it’s a surprise. Wanda and Natasha gently lead you out of the elevator, one holding on to each hand. “Are we there yet?” you ask, taking very hesitant steps forward.

“Almost malyshka,” Natasha chuckles.

Exactly 22 steps later, (and yes, you counted), they bring you to a stop. “Ready?” Wanda asks. The excitement in her voice brings a giddy smile to your face. You nod quickly, and she removes the blindfold.

You have to blink against the lights for a moment until your eyes adjust. Once they do, your breath hitches in your throat as you take in your surroundings. You stand in the middle of the compound roof top garden. It is decorated in candles, flowers and fairy lights.

The way it had been the night Natasha proposed to Wanda.

You weren’t there that night, but you’ve seen the pictures. You memorized everything about that night, from the decorations to the dresses they both wore. Secretly, you’ve always wished you could have been there, been a part of it somehow.

If only you had met them sooner…

Off to your right side, you see all of your friends and family. The whole team is there looking at you with happy smiles and eyes full of excitement. A few of them are holding out their phones, pointing them in your directions. Whether they’re taking photos or videos, you have no idea.

“What’s going on?” you turn back to your girlfriends to find them both kneeling on the ground in front of you. Natasha takes your hands into hers. Your eyes fall on the small velvet box that Wanda presents to you.

All words leave you. You can only stare in shock as they both smile up at you.

In an instant, the image is gone. Everything goes black and you jolt awake. It takes you a moment to orient yourself. You relax as you remember where you are: lying in your girlfriends’ bed.

The picturesque scene on the rooftop was merely a dream.

~Would you leave if I was ready to settle down?~

You don’t remember when you fell asleep, but you wake half on top of Natasha with your head resting on her chest. Wanda lies beside Nat, facing you. Her head rests on Nat’s shoulder, and her arm is draped across you. You can feel her quiet breaths across your face. You lie there.

An ache quickly builds in your chest as you think of the dream you just woke from.

They were proposing …in front of everyone you know. Their faces filled with pride, unafraid to love you and let it be known. It was perfect.

...well it would have been.

But it was just a dream, and it shakes you to your core.

You’ve been together over six months now, and you had yet to tell anyone. You had to sneak into their room to even be here right now.

You glance to the clock on the bedside table to check the time. 3:54 am. Your heart drops. In six minutes, the alarm will go off, signaling it’s time for you to leave. At 4:30, Steve will come knocking gently on the door for his and Nat’s usual morning run. You have to be gone by then.

A lump forms in your throat as your emotions overwhelm you. Keeping your relationship a secret from everyone you know has become exhausting.

You love the two women lying beside you.

You love them with everything in you. Even though you haven’t said those three words to each other yet, you know that you are in love with them. You’re not sure how much longer you can keep that a secret.

Your emotions get the upper hand. Exhaustion gathers in your eyes, and despite your best efforts, the tears fall.

You do everything you can to keep your breathing even, so you don’t wake your girlfriends. You do well for a while, but your lungs ache for a real breath. You lose your resolve, and a shaky inhale claws its way down your chest alerting the assassin beneath you. She’s pulled from her sleep, but doesn’t open her eyes, expecting to slip back into unconsciousness quickly.

It takes Natasha a just a moment to realize you’re awake. You’re breathing gives you away. When she feels liquid pool on her chest and roll down her skin, she realizes not only are you awake… you’re crying. She abandons sleep immediately.

“Dorogoy, what’s wrong?” Nat looks down at you, running her fingers through your hair to offer any comfort she can. When you don’t respond, she racks her brain for an answer, “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

You shake your head slightly. “No, just a dream,” you fight the lump in your throat, and more tears slip down your cheeks.

Wanda hums, awoken by your voices. When she peaks through half opened eyes, the first thing she sees are your red puffy eyes.

“It was a really good dream,” you whisper.

Now fully alert, Wanda reaches to wipe away your tears, “then why are you crying?”

You look up. The concern on both of their faces is almost enough to make you crack. To tell them everything, but you don’t.

You don’t answer her… because what if they’re not ready for that? What if they’re not ready to tell everyone that you’re together? What if they’re not ready to love you the way they love each other?

There’s only one way you’re getting out of this conversation, and you know it.

You smile toothlessly. Locking eyes with Wanda, you lean in to capture her in a kiss. You start off slow. Her movements are hesitant. Clearly, she is still concerned, but cautiously follows your lead. When you swipe your tongue across her bottom lip, she opens for you. Once you deepen the kiss, she threads her fingers into your hair. You shift to lean closer to her. In your movements, you slip one leg between your other girlfriend’s thighs. As you pull Wanda’s lip between your teeth in the way you know will make her melt, you press your knee to the Natasha’s center at the same time. They both moan.

If they realize what you’re doing, they don’t stop you.

You smirk in satisfaction. Breaking the kiss with your Sokovian girlfriend, you turn to the Russian beneath you. Wanda instantly starts kissing her way from your shoulder to your neck throwing her arm over your waist. You kiss Nat’s lips for only a moment, before trailing kisses down her jaw to her neck. Her hands tug on your hips, pulling you to grind down on her-

The ringing of the alarm clock on the bedside table halts all three of your movements. Time for you to go.

You pull away from Natasha’s neck to rest your forehead on hers. She sighs and Wanda’s weight sags against your side. With a kiss to the Russian’s lips and the Sokovian’s forehead, you begin to roll out of the bed.

“I gotta go,” you whisper sadly.

Wanda’s hand on your wrist stops you from standing from the bed, “Detka stay.”

“I’ll see you at breakfast.” You kiss her hand, and she lets go reluctantly. With one last smile to your girlfriends, you slip out of their shared bedroom.

The walk back to your room is quiet. It always is at this time in the morning, and you’re grateful. It means you don’t have to hide the tears.

~I can’t stop the silent tears from rolling down~

You spend the next hour crying, and the hour after that trying to hide the signs that you’ve been crying. You take a shower, wash your face, put on some make up trying to cover your red and puffy skin. Once you’re presentable, you decide to join the rest of team for breakfast.

Walking down the hallway to the kitchen, you hear footsteps behind you. Yelena walks past, purposefully brushing your shoulder with hers as she continues down the hallway.

Wanting answers, you follow the younger widow.

“Ok, you’ve barely spoken to me in months, Yelena. What is wrong?” you ask, but she keeps walking away from you. “Do you have a problem with me? Did I do something?”

“Yeah, my sister.”

She turns and gives you the same icy glare she has for a while now.

“What?”

Yelena straightens her back and squares her shoulders, “you asked if you did something… yes, you did… my sister.”

You stand shellshocked. Your mouth hangs open, as you try to figure out what to say.

The blonde doesn’t give you a chance, “I’ve seen the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. You two sneak around like no one’s watching. You’ve been hooking up, haven’t you?”

She raises an eyebrow, daring you to tell her she’s wrong.

You can’t lie. She’s a highly trained assassin and has been since she was six years old. She’d see right through you instantly.

You can’t tell the truth either. You haven’t discussed that with Nat and Wanda. Even if you could tell the truth, you doubt Yelena would believe you anyway.

When you don’t say anything, she scoffs, “Natasha is an adult. She can make her own decisions. I love my sister more than anything, and I will stand by her forever. If she wants to cheat on Wanda, that’s on her. But I want nothing to do with the homewrecker that ruined the first good relationship she’s ever had.”

The term hits you like a slap to the face. Is that what you are? A homewrecker?

“So yes, something is wrong. Yes, I have a problem with you,” the blonde takes another step until the two of you are face to face. “…and since you can’t seem to stay away from Natasha, stay the hell away from me.”

She storms off down the hallway before you have a chance to say anything… but honestly, what would you even say?

The last thing you want to do is follow Yelena into the kitchen, but you promised your girlfriends they would see you there. So you follow anyway.

~You and I both have to hide on the outside~

When you enter the kitchen, you find most of the seats are already taken. At the largest table, Natasha and Wanda sit with a few others. The table’s only remaining seat available is beside Nat. You lock eyes with the red head, and you know she has saved it for you. Despite your horrible morning, your lips curl into a genuine smile. You choose to focus on the warmth in your chest instead of the cold thoughts in your mind.

In the time it takes you to grab your breakfast and turn around, your seat is no longer available. Bruce has claimed the seat for himself. Natasha is turned the opposite direction talking to Wanda, so she doesn’t notice until its too late to stop him.

Internally, you deflate instantly. The heavy feeling returns, and you accept the fact that you won’t get to eat with your girlfriends. You begin walking towards a different table, but barely make it half way.

“Y/n,” Natasha calls out to you. You turn to see her dragging a chair from another table. “Bruce, scoot over so y/n can squeeze in.”

Bruce looks up confused, “Why can’t she just sit at another table-“ Nat kicks the leg of his chair, and he is quickly pushing his chair away, “ok, ok, I’ll scoot over.”

The assassin sets the extra chair down beside hers and waits for you to sit down. She pushes your chair in for you. You can feel the heat in your cheeks at her gesture.

The feeling lasts for less than a second.

You look up and see Yelena sitting directly across from you. Her face remains neutral. She’s concealing her hatred of you from the others. Though she lifts an eyebrow, signaling to you her disapproval.

Suddenly, you feel small and hyper aware of every interaction. Anxiety twists your stomach to the point that you are no longer hungry. You force yourself to take a bite every now and again. Mostly, you just push the food around on your plate mindlessly.

At some point, Natasha must have sensed your unease because she places her hand on your knee underneath the table. Instantly, you freeze. You didn’t realize that you had been bouncing your leg, until it stopped.

Normally, you yearn for her and Wanda’s touch constantly. It brings you comfort, but now it just heightens your anxiety. With Yelena sitting in front of you, it feels like you’re doing something wrong.

“Earth to y/n.”

You look up.

You hadn’t even realized Nat had been calling your name, trying to get your attention. She looks amused, but you recognize the hidden concern in her eyes, “you ok? You’ve barely eaten anything.”

She retracts her hand from your knee. Although no one can directly see it below the table, others are focusing in on your conversation, and she doesn’t want to chance it. You miss the contact instantly despite your anxieties.

You glance past Nat and find Wanda looking at you with similar concern, though hers is not really hidden. A glance around the table shows that almost everyone is now waiting for you to answer.

You smile and shrug casually, “yeah, I’m fine. I guess I’m just not that hungry today.”

For the most part, everyone seems satisfied with your answer. Conversation picks back up, and the attention is off of you. Both of your girlfriends remain focused on you a moment longer than everyone else.

To avoid their gaze, you look back at your plate, but know you can’t stomach any of it at the moment. Quietly you stand, and go to put away your dishes.

*Detka?* you hear Wanda’s voice in your head. You look across the room, and she is looking down as she eats from her plate, acting as though your exit hasn’t affected her as it has, like she isn’t speaking to you in your mind right now.

You continue putting your plate away, *I’m gonna go on a walk.*

*Are you ok?*

When you look up this time, she is looking at you. You breathe a sigh of relief,. So you do matter...

You give her your best smile, *yeah, I’m fine… just wanna get some fresh air.*

You don’t give her a chance to reply as you walk out of the kitchen.

~where I can’t be yours...~

Wanda bounds into the living room, making her way directly to you. She settles on the couch next to you with a bowl of popcorn in her lap.

It’s movie night, and since Natasha won’t be returning from her mission until tomorrow, Wanda is left without her usual cuddle buddy. Luckily, that means you get to fill in. Your girlfriend is a naturally cuddly person. She has been since long before you joined the team, so no one bats an eye when she throws a blanket across the two of you.

Its Sam’s turn to pick, and of course, he chooses a horror movie. This is great for you because you love horror movies, and Wanda hates them.

Five minutes into the movie, she grips your arm tightly. As the movie progresses, she inches closer and closer until she is pressed flush against your side. Several times, a jump scare will get the better of her. All you can do is laugh as she buries her head into your shoulder. By the end, she is so scared that she demands the next movie be a romcom, so she won’t have nightmares tonight.

You don’t notice exactly when it happened, but you’re suddenly aware of Wanda’s head resting on your shoulder. You look over and find her fast asleep. Your smile is involuntary. All you can focus on is the love you feel for her swarming your heart. Without thinking, you lean down and kiss the top of her head before you realize what you are doing.

You quickly look up to scan the room, hoping no one saw your slip, but no one is looking. The dark room seems to have given you enough of a cover to evade anyone’s attention. You relax at the thought. Cloaked in the darkness, you rest your head on Wanda’s.

When the movie ends, everyone decides to call it a night. Bucky offers to carry Wanda back to the room she shares with Nat. You want to tell him no. That you’ll just stay out here with her until/if she wakes up, but you know that would look suspicious. You hold still as he gently lifts your girlfriend and carries her out of the room.

Getting up, you decide to pick up the living room before heading to your room. You’re trying to kill time, making sure everyone is settled in their rooms for the night, so you can safely slip in to join Wanda, so she isn’t alone.

Wanda hates sleeping alone. You do too, but you have to, so you’re used to it. She always has Nat, except for nights like tonight. Once the coast is clear, you head for their door.

The hall is dark as you make the same late night walk as always.

Suddenly, a painful grip surrounds your bicep. You’re pulled harshly to the side until your back hits the wall. All you feel is pain.

“Fuck,” you grimace. You look up to see who has stopped you, “what the hell Clint?”

The archer’s entire body is tense with anger. His stare is icy enough to make your skin crawl. “You know, I could ask the same thing,” his tone is low. “What the hell do you think you’re trying to pull with Wanda? Nat’s gone on a mission, and you think that you can shoot your shot?”

“I-I’m not trying to pull anything with Wanda,” you stutter despite yourself.

“Don’t give me whatever ridiculous excuse you’ve come up with.” He lets go of your arm, but you don’t dare move. “I know what you’re doing. Wanda’s too sweet to say anything, so I will. Back off. She is engaged if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” He towers over you, “because it certainly doesn’t seem like it. I see the way you look at her. I saw you kiss her in there after she fell asleep and you thought no one was looking.”

You hide the shock as well as you can. With faux confidence, you square your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking abou-“

Clint interrupts you, shaking his head, “Cut the bull shit, y/n. Nat is my best friend. I trust Wanda not to hurt her, but I don’t trust you.”

That cuts straight to your soul. Your girlfriend’s best friend doesn’t trust you… maybe he’s right not to…

“You’re still new here,” he continues.

That’s not necessarily true. You’ve been an Avenger for well over a year and a half. Peter had joined the team well after you, and he is no longer considered ‘the new kid'. However, you know that now is the absolute worst time to correct him.

“You have no idea how long its taken for her to forgive herself for the wrong she’s done. How hard it was to convince her she deserved something good in her life. She is finally happy. They’re both finally happy. Who do you think you are trying to break that up?”

You know it’s a rhetorical question. Still, you want to respond, to defend yourself. You want to tell him you’re not trying to break them up. You want to tell him that you love them both from the bottom of your heart and would never do anything to hurt them or ruin your their relationship. You don’t want to take their happiness. You just want to share in it, add to it.

But you can’t say that.

“If you wreck the best thing to ever happen to her, so help me…” He leans in to whisper in your ear, “one day, one of my arrows just might miss.”

Chills run down your spine because you know its not just a threat. It’s a promise.

He leans away from you, and his eyes bore into yours, “Wanda is off limits. Got it?”

You don’t respond, mainly because you don’t know what to say. So, you just clench your jaw and try to walk past him.

Clint grabs your bicep the same as before and pushes you against the wall again. Only this time, the impact was much harder. If you didn’t have a bruise already, you definitely have one now.

He glares down at you, “am I making myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you mutter through clenched teeth.

Clint releases your arm and walks down the hallway. All you can do is watch his back as he goes.

You’ve never felt so alone.

~...and you can’t be mine.~

Half an hour. That’s how long you have been sitting in the study trying to write up your latest mission report. Half an hour, and all you have done is stare at a blank word document. You had hoped that coming in here would help you to focus, but the pain in your shoulder blade keeps you distracted.

The conversation (if you can call it that) you had with Clint last night plays on an endless loop in your head, and you have no way to stop it.

You’ve seen him get angry before, mostly on missions or during interrogations. But that anger was always directed elsewhere, at your enemies or occasionally at himself. This was the first time his wrath had been set towards you. The venom in his words cut deep, and you can’t help but question if there is maybe some truth to them.

Wanda and Natasha were perfectly happy for years before you came into their lives. You’ve seen the pictures. You’ve watched the video of Natasha getting down on one knee holding out a tiny velvet box. The smile and tears of joy on Wanda’s face when she said yes. You know that Wanda had already bought a ring of her own for Natasha. You’ve seen it on the assassin’s finger. Even though they tried to hide it, you’ve seen the folder where they had begun to plan their wedding. Their future had been set…

…and you weren’t in it.

Now you’re trying to insert yourself into that bond, cracking the foundation of their relationship. What right do you have to do that? You were lucky to have them as your friends. Why couldn’t you just be happy loving them in whatever capacity you could have them? Did you really need to threaten the bond they have with each other?

Friday interrupts the downward spiral of your thoughts. “Agent Y/L/N, Miss Maximoff has asked me to inform you that Agent Romonoff’s jet will be arriving in the landing bay in five minutes.”

Despite the dark thoughts in your head, the news cuts through it all and makes you smile. Natasha is home.

Immediately, you close your laptop and run to drop it off in your bedroom. You make it to the landing bay doors with a minute and a half to spare, but you never cross the threshold. Your feet are planted on the ground when you see the small group gathered.

Pepper waits to greet Tony, quietly conversing with Wanda. Yelena is the only one who can see you. The other two have their backs to the door. Your eyes lock with the blonde widow, and if looks could kill, you’re a goner.

Any joy you felt at your girlfriend’s return is washed away. You can’t welcome her with a kiss. You can’t hug her as tight as possible. With the look in Yelena’s eyes, even simply talking to Natasha feels like a bad idea.

You can’t go out there, and your lip quivers at the thought. Quickly, you turn on your heels and walk back into the compound.

You pray Natasha will forgive you.

~But I know this, we got a love that is hopeless~

As you make your way through the compound, you text Natasha telling her where to find you.

You decide to go sit on the roof. It’s quiet up there. It’s also the place where Wanda and Natasha asked you to be their girlfriend, so its special. Sometimes when your thoughts get a little too loud, you come up here. The memories ground you and rebuild your confidence in the relationship and your love.

You are lost in thought when you feel arms wrap around you from behind. You have no idea how long you’ve been up here, but it must have been a while. She’s had time to shower and change out of her uniform. Nat’s familiar voice echoes against your ear, “I missed you on the landing bay.”

Leaning back, you seek comfort in her embrace. “I’m sorry, I got distracted with mission reports,” you lie.

You don’t want to tell her the real reason you weren’t there to greet her. You’re afraid that if she knows about the tension between you and her sister, she’ll leave you for sure. And if Nat leaves, you’re certain Wanda would too.

“It’s ok,” she kisses the side of your head.

You release a shaky breath, which she picks up on instantly. She gently turns you to face her, “hey, everything ok?”

You smile sweetly at her, “I just missed you.”

A soft smile stretches across her face. “I missed you too,” she runs her hands up the sides of your arms accidentally brushing the spot where Clint grabbed you.

Involuntarily, you pull your arm from her touch.

No one knows about your little late night chat with Clint. You didn’t tell Wanda. Despite the perfect weather, you wore a sweater over your tank top to hide the fresh bruises that are still forming.

“Detka, what’s wrong?” the assassin retracts her hands.

Kicking yourself for making her worry, you quickly reach out for her, “its nothing.” You shrug playfully, “just a little sore.”

Green eyes stare into your own, and you get lost in their depth. She knows there is something you’re not telling her. She can feel it in her soul. “Talk to me, please,” Natasha’s voice is soft, and her touch is softer. She gently runs her thumb across your cheek.

You want to. You want to with everything in you. You know that you will have to talk about it eventually, but you can’t. Not yet.

“Do we have to talk right now?”

The redhead sighs slightly, “no.” She wants desperately to help with whatever is going on, but she doesn’t want to push you to share before you’re ready to. “Just promise me that you will?” she asks, “...when you’re ready?”

“I promise,” and you mean it. You owe her that much.

“Ok,” she whispers with a smile, “what do you need from me right now?”

A bashful smile takes over your face. Your eyes dart down to her lips, before you reconnect your eyes.

Shaking her head, she chuckles softly. She leans down, pressing her lips to yours. The kiss is brief, but its everything you need in that moment. When the kiss is broken, she smiles at you feeling a little better, “anything else?”

“Hold me?”

Immediately, her arms surround you, and you fall into her comfort.

Just then Wanda walks onto the roof top. She has been looking for you since you didn’t come to the landing bay. Stopping mid-step, she assesses the situation, eyes meeting with Natasha’s. The two share a silent conversation that you don’t hear. The assassin filling her in on what she’s missed.

You’re suddenly aware of someone leaning into your back. Wanda presses a kiss to your head. She wraps her arms around both you and Natasha. Any tension left in your body melts away, quickly replaced by the love you feel for the two of them.

While being up on the roof does help calm your anxieties, nothing is quite as effective as being in their arms. The cracks in your heart mend just a little bit faster with their touch.

It feels like everything will be ok, as long as you can stay here in their embrace.

Part Three

Series Master List

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag-list: @simp4nat @mostlymarvelsstuff @youralphawolf72 @originallovementality @an-evergreen-rose @mmmmokdok @localarcherwriter @boowhobabe @womenarehotsstuff @gay-trash-in-a-paperbag @lifeontop @wandamaximoff-simp @kaitlynroseb @diablloblood @ang3lmask @marvelwomen-simp @nightimemommy

If I missed you on the tag list, I’m sorry! Let me know, and I’ll fix it!

#wandanat x reader #wandanat x y/n #wanda x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximov #natasha romanov #wanda x natasha #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #fem!reader #wish we could be like that

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otomes-world · 5 months

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Longing

Hello everyone! I had a strange urge to write something, so yes.. AU belongs to @shiny-jr I'm just interpreting. This is also my parody to the five stages of grief. Another sentient twst works are here. Enjoy 0/

Upd: I've finally got permission to post this thing! But.. I forgot about it.. and I'm no longer like it.. and it's so small.. but, yeah, let it exists.

Disbelief.

It was the first emotion that began to creep into consciousness with a light touch from just hearing about the “shutdown.” The player just took a break, was busy, preparing for exams, tests, work, whatever. Causing panic out of nowhere was stupid. This had already happened more than once, but..

The hours merged into days. Days became weeks. Only the most stubborn began to count beyond the month. The mistrust and fear began to be felt stronger than before. More and more often insidious “what ifs” were spinning in head.

You were only gone for a short moment. Maybe a little longer this time, but you would come back. You would, except… Yuu turned into the doll they always were. A puppet whose only value was in you, who controlled it. When there was no point in denying, a storm broke out.

Indignation.

Anticipation caused hearts to experience previously ignored emotions and heads to question. What could be the reason? Could something happen in that inaccessible world? Do you feel the same confusion, unable to connect?

Could you become bored with their existence?

Did you choose them, him, over someone else? What exactly made you hesitate? A beautiful singing voice? Looks that could challenge the Evil Queen? Fame? Wealth? What?

Was the effort really not enough to captivate you, to make you pay attention? Place in your heart the desire to stay. Is it really his fault or is it yours?

Grief.

Bitterness replaced frustration. The one that was ripping chest, made him want to cut his own throat open if it would give any peace of mind. If it would strengthen confidence of your return.

When it seem that the empty vessel was about to break, hope still glimmers at the bottom. When the ear listened to every rumor, rustle, speculation, even if it was false. When the one he least want to see looked at him from the mirror.

When he didn’t want to, and most importantly, couldn’t stop. Gave up. Let every attempt, broken hope plunge him into the abyss of despair much deeper than the last time. Getting back on feet became more and more difficult. Sometimes the thought of acceptance flashed but gaving up the most desired thing was hardly possible. Even if the chances that no one would understand and that everything would burn out were higher every moment.

Longing.

Yearning invariably replaces suffocating pain. Very reluctant, denied by all means.

When there was nothing left in tired beating heart - not a single drop - only memories of the time spent with you through Yuu. Then he still did not understand other people's adoration. He thought that this would bypass him. However, like everyone else, he couldn’t resist the eyes, your eyes and no one else’s, looking at him in a special way. As if in the world of colored pixels he was worth something.

A smile involuntarily plays on his face, although he barely had enough strength to maintain an imitation of life. In moments of overwhelming loss, pride insisted: you were not worth it. You were not worth all the torment, all the tears he shed. You were not worth.. but this was a blatant lie.

When everything around him would merge into one colorless heap, when he himself would cease to exist. The only thought at the last moment would be dedicated to you. Therefore, as soon as the news of the appearance of an impostor who dared to pretend to be you reached the exhausted mind, remained only... rage.

#tenshi talk #twisted wonderland #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #sentient au twst #sentient twst au #twst impostor au #i didn't ask to isekaied #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst oneshot #twst fanfic

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cripplecharacters · 1 month

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Hi! I have a myriad of minor chronic conditions and symptoms, but nothing that's actually been identifiable enough to be diagnosed by a doctor. That's a relevant piece of information, because there's a character who I'm writing with more severe/debilitating versions of some of my own symptoms, and I'm struggling with giving him any actual defined diagnoses because of it. The actual question here is: If I'm basing these symptoms off of things that are happening with my own body, and the character is not in a situation where he'd get a diagnoses in-universe, is there a reason I can't just leave it as a mystery?

I suppose the main reason I'm struggling with the question in the first place is that upping the severity of the symptoms in question means that, unlike myself, the character will be using mobility aids, which makes me feel like I should do more research on why he'd be using them. I have no idea why, once in a blue moon, my right leg just decides to refuse to hold my weight for 10-45 seconds, but I do know that if I know that if it happened more regularly/for longer periods of time I'd probably invest in a cane due to instability walking. I'll be posting this work in a space where people will be able to ask me questions about it directly and I can already feel the comments being typed lol. So, I feel like I should have an answer beyond just "His symptoms are based off my own and unfortunately I don't have a diagnoses", but like... do I actually or am I just getting in my head about this?

Hi,

It’s completely okay to have a character who doesn’t have a specific condition or diagnosis you can point to if you’re basing it off your own life experience.

The truth is that this happens all the time. I also don’t really know why my knee is awful and sometimes can’t hold my weight or is incredibly painful to bend, and I’ve been to doctors (who had suggestions but no specifics) and was prescribed physical therapy. I did the PT. It didn’t do much, but I tried it.

You clearly have an experience with your conditions and symptoms and just because you haven’t gotten a diagnosis doesn’t mean your disabling symptoms aren’t real. It also doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll never get a diagnosis, either.

I completely understand your hesitancy, though, because the truth is that some disabled characters are created with a vague idea and end up having some sort of Ambiguous Disorder that is just for plot reasons. That can be harmful and ignore the realities of real-life conditions and disabilities just for something to be more Appealing or Plot Relevant.

But it doesn’t look like that’s what you’re doing at all—you are in fact pretty well-researched, because you’re basing your character primarily in your lives experience and, in good faith, making them not exactly the same as your own.

“His symptoms are based on my own, and I don’t currently have a specific diagnosis” is a reasonable answer. It’s true, and it’s not dismissive or misleading in any way. You can also add “I did research on how A and B would make someone need/do X or Y,” as needed. Like specific mobility aid research, or potential conditions, or related symptoms.

Overall, you can feel confident in your creation of your character and that your depiction is reasonable, and it also might make you more comfortable to answer questions if you feel equipped to elaborate about the symptoms or the aids rather than about the diagnosis.

Hope this helps! :)

— Mod Sparrow

#howisa-raven-likeawritingdesk #mysterious disability #mobility disabilities #mod sparrow

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niphredil-14 · 6 months

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pls write some fluff for raph <3333

its 2 am rn so i just want something comforting to read lmao. maybe some headcannond about trying to get a peaceful nights sleep while ur crime fighting boyf sneaks back into ur room after patrolling/a mission?🥷🥷🥷

ty bby

METRONOME OF AFFECTION (2012 Raphael Hamato/Reader) Warnings: some pining, some light insecurity, lots of fluff, friends to lovers word count:1794 notes: tumblr wouldnt let me post this all at once so i was forced to break it up.

Protecting a city as massive and crime filled as New York was far from an easy task, no matter how many people were on the team, and in some cases, the team could add more to his plate than they took anything off of it. From small annoyances, and petty arguments to full on battles, it didn't take long to wear Raphael down, he could feel his patience falling away from him like loose scutes. Every little inconvenience and setback sticking to him like algae on his shell. By the time that the bright moon, clouded by the fog and smoke rising from the city, had begun to set over the skyline, Raph's feet were dragging with every step, his very bones ached, and what risked becoming a permanent scowl had carved itself onto his face, his mouth curving downward, pulling awkward lines down his jaw from his beak. The group had all been heading towards their go-to sewer cap, located in a small, cramped alley in the Italian district, right next to a small Mom-and-Pop pizzeria that they had April and Casey frequenting on their behalf. The closer they got to their equivalent of a doorstep, the more Raph's appetite lessened and a strong sense of dread set into his chest. He did not want to end his less-than-ideal night with going back to the lair, with people who has spent the past six hours doing nothing but getting on his nerves, only to brood and stew in his misery, holed up in his room or the dojo until the stars rose yet again as the next evening dawned, where they would all rinse and repeat their ass-kicking and name-taking routine, he needed an escape, and he knew exactly where to go. He had stopped walking, letting his brothers and friends build a gap between them as he slowly melded with the shadows, turning and heading east. After five minutes or so, he would send them a text, just before he arrived at his destination, letting his family know that he was okay, and that it was just a bit early for him to crawl back to the sewers to hide from the world again. Pausing after sending the text, letting the dim blue-light from the screen minimally illuminate his face, he hesitated on their fire escape. The window led into their living room, and he could tell that there was not a single light on in their apartment, save for a small night light kept plugged into the hallway outlet, so that they didn't trip if they had to get up in the middle of the night, as they so often did. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb their sleep, he knew that with everything they had going on in their life, that they weren't getting nearly enough, and yet he couldn't stop himself from at least slipping in to use the first aid kit they kept underneath their bathroom sink, and making sure that they were okay. He placed his fingers underneath the window, and let out an exasperated sigh when it lifted open without resistance. The number of times he had warned them to keep all their windows locked was as impossible to count as the stars with the naked eye. He faced the evil of the city every night, he knew what hid in the shadows, he knew the monsters that would give anything to hide in their closet or under their bed, he could be counted among them, though for contrasting reasons to the other freaks and low lives. Silently crawling through their window, with some struggle due to his sheer size, he made his way to the kitchen first, grabbing a glass of water, and some of the snacks they had begun buying once Raphael's visits became more frequent. He smiled to himself in the dark of the kitchen, his heart touched at seeing that they had restocked his favorite snacks. After having a quick bite, he snuck into the bathroom, taking out the first aid kit an patching himself up where needed, which fortunately for him, was not much, he hadn't gotten more than a few cuts, and only had to remove two bullets. He slid the kit back into the cupboard and shut the door behind him, walking as quickly as he quietly could towards the end of the hall, where their bedroom was.

The door was closed, but he could hear their soft breathing behind the door. Their breaths were slow and even, and he was sure that they were in a deep sleep. He felt as though he shouldn’t intrude, but they had always told him that he was always welcome, no matter the time or the day, and maybe, he thought, he should just do a quick check to make sure a necklace they forgot to take off wasn’t choking them and that there weren’t any intruders or creepy-crawlies hiding in the room, waiting for the perfect moment. And so, he slowly opened their bedroom door, cringing at the low squeak that resulted. He froze, waiting for any sign that he had disturbed them, but their breathing did not change, and they only slightly shifted. It wasn’t the first time that he had shown up in the middle of the night, and though he always felt so guilty about it, he knew how it usually ended, with them tucked close to his plastron, as the two cuddled close underneath the comforter, drifting off to sleep, with only a small stream of light creeping in through a small crack in the blinds. And yet, though this was far from his first time entering without prior notice, he was afraid. Afraid that it would be the last straw, that they would turn him away, tired of his company, tired of his existence. Despite his fear, the turtle took a step into their room, and then another. He walked around the perimeter of the room, checking the closet, the blinds, and any other potential hiding spots, before making his way over to the side of the bed. He did not lift the covers, just stood there, blocking the small bit of window light, and casting a shadow over their form. They looked so peaceful that he couldn’t help but just stop and stare, unable to fathom how someone as gruff and rough around the edges as him, someone with a shell even harder than their head, could end up with someone who made them feel so soft. Looking down at his friend, the one he had loved for what felt like several lifetimes before his own, he felt a sense of hopelessness. He loved being close to them, and yet he was so sure that they could never feel anything more than platonic, if even that, for him. Sometimes his brain turned its rudeness towards him, yelling at him that they only ever kept him around out of the kindness of their heart, out of pity, that he was a charity case, that they would never willingly want to be with a mutant such as him. In a moment where he wanted to be close enough to crawl inside their skin, but was to fearful of the rejection, he could only grant himself any sort of reprieve from the tightening of his heart, by lightly brushing his finger along their face, tracing swirls on their cheek. Being with them was as torturous as it was heavenly, they gave him a safe haven when he needed an escape, but with their gift of hospitality, their bright smile and caring eyes had planted a seed of sickly sweetness deep within him. He didn’t know how they had managed to reach through his plastron to tug directly at his heart strings, puppeteering him like a string marionette, but they had and there was no one else he would rather have such control over him. And just as he was about to let his hopelessness consume him and leave, their eyes slowly blinked open, their head lolling to face him as their gaze followed his arm up to his shoulder, jaw, then face. A sleepy, almost drunk-like smile graced their features, and his heart swelled. In a moment of vulnerability, they had smiled at him, so genuinely he was convinced that it couldn’t have been an act of pity.

“Hey, Big Guy.” The exhaustion seeped into their words, slurring them. His voice caught in his throat, and he coughed, clearing his throat.

“Hey.” He replied, trying to pull his hand away from their face, unsuccessfully, as they grabbed his wrist and tugged them towards them, lifting up the covers for him to crawl under. He sat down on the side of the bed, undoing the wraps on his feet and hands, and taking of his belt an harnesses, finally taking off the bandana as well, before finally climbing into bed with them. It was a small bed, twin size at best, which did not leave much personal space between them. He hovered his hands on his side, until they shifted forward, hugging him as they buried their face in his shoulder. “Sorry for waking ya,’ Doll.” They shook their head, nuzzling into him some more in the process.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Raph. You know I’m always happy to have you. It’s been too long.” He gave a light chuckle, caving to the cuddles they both craved, and pulling them even closer to him.

“It’s been three days.”

“Exactly, that’s far too long to be without my love.” Raphael sputtered, and he was sure that if reptiles could blush, that he would be red as the first roses, dyed with the blood of Aphrodite herself.

“You love me? Like, love me, as in, a more-than-friends kinda way?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“’Course I love you, Raphael, you think I’d let anyone else break into my apartment at five in the morning to wake me up for a cuddle sesh? You’re my everything.” As embarrassing as it was, he could feel his tail thump against the mattress behind him.

“You’re my everything too.” Raphael replied. He wanted to tell them that he loved them too, but the words were too heavy in his throat, and too scary for him to let escape just yet, so he settled for mimicking their last sentence, and lowering his beak to gently press against their forehead, to mimic a kiss as closely as he was capable of with his beak. Giving them a tight squeeze, he shuffled even closer to them, nuzzling the top of their head, and drifting off to sleep, with their hearts synching to beat together as a metronome of their affection.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael hamato #tmnt raph hamato #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt raphael hamato x reader #tmnt raph hamato x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt 2012

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pesky--dust · 1 year

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I love Chiyoh, but I feel like in a lot of fanfics she is portrayed as horribly cold, emotionless and she doesn't like Will and would do everything to protect Hannibal from him. We don't know much about her, practically as much as nothing, but I'll allow myself an amateur analysis of her person.

(I spent too much time to read scripts of episodes with her). In inverted commas I placed dialogues and italicized the descriptions from the script. I also added screenshots of scripts, if I felt the need to. In bold letters I wrote the titles of the episodes I discussed and the summary of the whole post, because it turned out to be much longer than I expected.

Secondo:

We meet Chiyoh in Secondo when Will went to Lithuania to better understand Hannibal. She is an excellent shooter and has a very good intuition — being watched by Will while hunting, she realizes that something has changed on the property (Something is off in this place she knows so well.).

When she finally meets Will, who tells her he's Hannibal's friend, Chiyoh dips [shotgun’s barrel] slightly, either in hesitation or relief., but when he tells, he is looking for him, she raises the barrel again. She is apparently surprised that Will knows about Mischa, which shows the fragment of the script:

Chiyoh also asks Will how he knows Hannibal and when she hears his answer, she comes to the right conclusion:

Then Chiyoh asks Will to tell his story. We don't know exactly what Will told her, but he must have said something that made her react that way:

Finally she comments his story with: “Hannibal took someone from you, are you here to take someone from him?”, so I guess it's safe to assume Will told her about Abigail, but probably without details about complicated relationship between him, Abigail and Hannibal.

She tells she can understand Hannibal, because he is doing what has been done to Mischa. So she rather knows about killing and cannibalism, however I guess she has no idea about the fact that Hannibal ate his own sister, but about that a little bit later. In my opinion she sees Hannibal's actions as a coping mechanism to deal with what has happened to Mischa (and it wouldn't be wrong, people deal with trauma in different ways).

As I mentioned before, Chiyoh has perfect intuition and realizes that Will is similar to Hannibal (“You're nakama. Aren't you alike?”) and that he thought about killing and eating her (“You've given that some thought.”). Here is a script of that moment:

Will tells her also infamous: “I've never known myself as well as I know myself when I'm with him.” and Chiyoh’s reaction is: She considers that, recognizing the feeling.

Choyoh tells Will her story — she didn’t let Hannibal take the life of Misha's killer, so he left the prisoner's life in her hands. There is a dialog:

Not only Hannibal is curious if Chiyoh would kill the prisoner — Will is also curious, so he frees the prisoner. Prisoner, overwhelmed by the freedom he regained after twenty-five years (Outside for the first time in twenty-five years, the man shivers with terror.), returns to his cell and attacks Chiyoh, when he gains an opportunity to do so. Feeling life slipping away, Chiyoh drives a pheasant bone into the man's neck, eventually killing him, which results with: She does what she has always resisted and deliberately kills the caged man. He slumps and falls off her. She lies still for a moment, then lets out a SCREAM.

She knows Will is responsible for that and tells him that, but the shock of what she did caused also dialogue, in which she begins to wonder if Hannibal lied to her about what happened to his sister:

She decides to help Will to find Hannibal, because she had no reason to stay in Lithuania after killing that man.

Contorno:

On the train, Chiyoh tells Will how she came to meet Hannibal, how they played together as children and Hannibal was, “charming the way a cub is charming, a small cub that grows up to be like one of the big cats.”, with Will commenting, “One you can't play with later.”.

Will talks to her about the prisoner she killed. He asks if she sees herself killing that man, to which Chiyoh responds she does not see herself, but him:

When they are getting ready to bed, they are also talking and the dialogue I'm pasting in the next paragraph, makes me think that Chiyoh, despite living twenty-five years in solitude, can read people like Hannibal like an open book. Will says that violence can be used to control behavior, and Chiyoh notices that Hannibal is affecting Will and wonders if Will is also affecting Hannibal. She also realizes that Will wants to kill Hannibal because he fears otherwise he will become like Hannibal, so she comments with the words, “There are means of influence other than violence.”.

Later she repeats words, “There are means of influence other than violence.”, followed by:

(I really wanted to use that fragment of the script)

Dolce:

In this episode, Chiyoh introduces herself to Bedelia as Hannibal's family. She also tells Bedelia that they are like birds and that Hannibal puts them in cages, wondering what they will do.

When Bedelia asks her what she wants, Chiyoh answers, “I want to cage him.”. Bedelia tells her that she thought that the biggest Hannibal's mistake was Will Graham but maybe it's Chiyoh.

The next time we see Chiyoh, she shoots Will. While treating Will's gunshot wound, Hannibal tells Will that Chiyoh has always been protective of him and is delighted that she, not Will, killed the prisoner.

Later Chiyoh gets into the elevator where Jack is. Realizing that Jack is going to the same floor as she and that the man is watching her suspiciously, Chiyoh tells him, she has mistook the floor and leaves.

Digestivo:

This is the last episode where Chiyoh appears. It is also the episode in which Chiyoh meets Jack Crawford. After Hannibal and Will got kidnapped and Jack is about to be killed, Chiyoh rescues him by killing corrupted police officers, because she thinks she should have done it (“I ought to. I should. Therefore, I must.”).

At the same time, she apparently realizes that Jack must know both Hannibal and Will. She understands that when she's talking about Hannibal, she apparently must also talk about Will (“You're sitting at Hannibal's table. You know him. You know Will.”).

Jack sees that Chiyoh can be violent, when the situation demands it and being asked, to where Hannibal and Will were taken, he tells her, he will tell her that information if she take his IV away, so she does so. He tells her where to find them and assures her he won't interfere.

To save Hannibal, Chiyoh travels to the United States, to Maryland. There, on the Muskrat Farm, when Hannibal carries Will half-conscious in his arms and is followed by Mason Verger's employees, Chiyoh kills them to keep Hannibal safe.

Next time when we see Chiyoh, she is on the porch of Will's house, where she finally meets Hannibal again. Hannibal asks, if she will go home, if she can go home, to which Chiyoh replies, “No more than you can.”, which is followed by the dialogue:

Much of this dialogue did not end in the episode, but despite everything, Chiyoh has changed her mind and does not want to see Hannibal in the cage anymore. The words “I see the best of you and the worst with steady hands and a slow heart.” I understand as the fact that Chiyoh knows Hannibal, she knows his good and bad traits; she's not afraid of him, but she knows she should be careful and not put her gun down.

I come back also to the topic of her knowledge about Hannibal's actions. As I wrote, she rather didn't know about the fact that Hannibal ate Mischa and it's pretty clear in that moment. She asks him about it and is actually relieved he only ate and didn't kill his sister.

Hannibal’s words “The most stable elements, Chiyoh, appear in the middle of the periodic table, roughly between iron and silver. Between iron and silver. I think that is appropriate for you.” mean to me that even though she killed a man, she's still the same Chiyoh he knew, since she is violent only when situation demands is and she's still going to protect him. Despite what she did, she didn't betray herself, as he did after Misha's death — she's better than him.

The last time we see her is when Hannibal surrenders. She's pointing a rifle at the officers and Hannibal, ready to fire if the FBI wants to kill Hannibal on the spot. Eventually she goes into the woods. It's the last moment we see her, the last moment we hear about her.

Summary (tl;dr)

All in all, Chiyoh is an excellent shooter. She also has great intuition, because — even though she barely met Will Graham — she practically immediately realizes how similar he is to Hannibal. She knows Will and Hannibal must be close if Will knows about Mischa. She also knows Hannibal took away someone close to Will. However, she says she accepts Hannibal because he does what has been done to Mischa, his sister, whom he loved above all else. She sees herself as Hannibal's family, but cries, realizing that maybe Will knows more about Hannibal than she does, because she asks him if Hannibal lied to her about what happened to Mischa.

She had a strict rule not to take a human life, but she's forced to do so in order not to die herself. She wants to protect Hannibal, because he's probably the only family she has.

Her words that there are other means of influence other than violence and her kissing Will, I understand that seeing how identical he and Hannibal are and that Hannibal influences Will's behavior and Will influences Hannibal's behavior, Chiyoh wants to convince Will that he doesn't have to kill Hannibal because violence is not the only means of influencing people's behavior — it can be also love. In my opinion, that's why Chiyoh doesn't kill Will when he pulls out a knife to hurt Hannibal. She shoots him to simply disable him, to give him a chance to reconsider his decision to take Hannibal's life.

She also realizes that apparently when talking about Hannibal, she must also be talking about Will, because in a conversation with Jack, she points out that Jack knows both Hannibal and Will.

At first, she wanted to put Hannibal in a cage, but: 1) after hearing from Bedelia that she thought Hannibal's biggest mistake was Will Graham, and yet maybe his biggest mistake was rather Chiyoh; 2) and after the massacre at the Verger farm; Chiyoh changed her mind.

I think it might have something to do with Jack's words, “I know them. They are identically different, Hannibal and Will.”, and with Bedelia's statement that she thought Will was Hannibal's the biggest mistake, and with the massacre at the Verger farm itself, as everyone Chiyoh has met tells her about closeness between Hannibal and Will; she also saw Hannibal rescuing and carrying Will, taking care of him at his home.

She realizes that all of this can't be the result of violence. I think she sees that both Hannibal and Will are beasts, but they can control each other to a certain extent. She promises Hannibal that she will continue to protect him, but not in a cage, as some beasts are better not be caged. However, seeing that Hannibal decides to let himself be locked in a cage, she allows it, because it’s his decision.

I believe that after these events, Chiyoh remained in the United States to keep her hand on the pulse in case Hannibal needed her. Given that Chiyoh herself said she can’t go back home for the same reason Hannibal can’t (bad memories) and that, according to Bryan Fuller, she was the one who took care of the house on the cliff, I think that theory makes sense.

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gay4harm · 9 months

Text

Pick a side l Part 2

Pairing: Shuriri x reader

Warning: none besides a few kissing scenes

Taglist: @s0lam3y - Interact with this post to be added

3 days had passed since Shuri had came to your place, 3 days since you had rejected her.

And three days of you and Riri talking. You knew it was wrong but you couldn't help yourself. Riri was kind and gentle, she listened to you as if she genuinely wanted to hear what you had to say.

Today you woke with a smile on your face. The reason why was because you only had two early classes today, no rehearsals and you were off from work today.

On this rare occurrence you could just chill out, watch a movie and maybe even make a cup of tea.

You step out of your apartment building ready to walk to your favorite record store when you spot Riri walking back from what you assumed was one of her classes.

"Hey Riri" She stops after noticing you and gives you a warm smile. "Hey Y/N, how you doing?"

"Better now that I'm seeing you." She licks her lips making sure to bit her bottom lip in the process. "You saying you like seeing me?" She says with low eyes. "That is exactly what I'm saying"

You didn't know where this sudden confidence was coming from but you liked it. "Where you headed?" Riri had noticed you didn't have your usual bag that was filled with books and instead you sported a star bag that complemented your outfit just right.

"Well I was just gonna walk around town a little bit, probably stop at this really cool record store."

"That's wassup"

"Do you... wanna walk with me?" You were hesitant to ask since you didn't think she would say yes but when she replied with "Yeah sure" your eyes widened with joy and a soft smile broke out onto your face.

You and Riri walked until you arrived and as you entered the store the first thing you did was ask your favorite Massachusetts native and the store owner, Otis if any new records came in.

"Yes Ms. L/N, a few just came in." He pulls out a crate that was filled with new records, you move them around until you see one of your favorite songs.

You turn to see Riri walking around, you walk up to her. "Did you find anything?" She ask once she sees you. "Yeah, this one's my favorite I've been looking for it forever." You show her the vinyl you had picked up. "I've never heard that one"

You look up at her in disbelief. "You've never heard this song?" She shakes her head in response. You pull her to one of the record players that sat on a row with about four others. You plop the record on the turntable and pick up the headphones that were provided. You turn the song up as you place one of the headphones next to your ear watching Riri do the same to the other side. The song begins to emit from out the earbud and you watch Riri, waiting for a reaction.

Love

Love will keep us together

Think of me, babe whenever

Some sweet talking girl comes along

Singing his song

Don't mess around

You just got to be strong

Just stop

Cause I really love you

Stop, I'll be thinking of you

Look in my heart

And let love keep us together

As the chorus plays you look over to Riri and can't help but notice how good she looks. Her brows furrowing as she listens to the lyrics, her lips that just looked so good with the same cherry lip balm she had on the night you two had kissed, you had made sure to remember the flavor.

You couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together as you could feel your heat growing, you couldn't help but to shift closer to her so you could get a better smell of her vanilla and lavender perfume that swarmed through your nose in the best way possible and you definitely couldn't help but to place a peck on her lips once she looked up at you with her round brown eyes that made you melt every time.

Once you pecked her lips once you had to do it again of course and it wouldn't make sense if you didn't do it a third time. You know what it actually would be better if you just grabbed her face and fully embraced her lips with a big sloppy kiss that almost threw Riri off balance.

Her hands took place on top of yours that sat on both sides of her face once you had dropped the headphones.

You pull away once you realize where you guys were, you were glad on one was there except you, Riri and Otis who wasn't paying any attention to you guys.

"I'm sorry I just-"

"Nah you good, I don't mind it"

"Ok" You put your head down, a bit embarrassed at what you had just done. Basically jumping on Riri like some kind of animal, but could you really blame yourself, that was just the kind of effect Riri had on you.

You pick up the record, put it back in its case as you look up at Riri. "I'm definitely getting this one." She grins at you as you walk up to the counter and as soon as Otis was done ringing you up you and Riri walk out ready to see what other stores you guys could look around at.

You and Riri walk back to the apartment complex and she makes sure to walk you into your apartment once she realized your roommates weren't there.

"Sooo"

You turn to see Riri standing near the door awkwardly. "You ok?"

"Yeah I'm good"

"Did you want to head to my room or do you have to go?" Riri's head perked up because of this and a soft "Yeah" fell from her lips.

She follows you down a hall until you guys arrive to your room.

"Soo this is my room"

Riri walks around admiring the several gymnastic and cheerleading trophies along with a few metals, she saw the small wall of polaroids that showed you smiling happily with your friends and a few showcased you still in costume after a show. Your room gave off a spaced theme but not in a childish way. You had star garlands and light hanging down the ceiling and on the walls. A tapestry hung above your bed that had the constellations on them that gave the allusion that it was the real thing.

Posters were littered along the walls as well as a few mirrors that mimicked the moons cycles.

Instead of a regular light you had purple led lights that flashed across your room. "If it's too dark I can turn these off and put the regular lights on"

"Oh nah your good, I like it, you know a bit of mood lighting"

"Ok" You smile softly at Riri watching as she walked closer to you till the point where she was right in front of you. She places her hands on your hips pulling you closer until your noses almost touched.

Your breathing picked up as she moves to kiss your glossed lips. Riri backs you up until the back of your knees hit the bed, you both move until you're laying on your back with her above you.

The only way to describe the way Riri was kissing you was hot, sloppy and hungry, her tongue fought with yours until she began to make her way to the inside of your sweater with her cold hands making you yelp giving her the opportunity to explore your mouth with her tongue and once she started you didn't want her to stop.

The two of your maneuver until you had reach the point where you had your knee propped up so Riri could grind on it and she moved so you could do the same. You skirt bunched up as you two grinded on each slowly, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the minute and with the way Riri groaned on top of you, you could tell she was feeling the same. You thought it would go farther than just humping each other until Riri pulled away. "Sorry my phone keeps going off."

"Oh no it's ok, go ahead"

Riri looks through her phone until she tells you who had just interrupted your little makeout session. "Um it's Shuri, she says she need my help with something." Just with those words your heart was shattered even though they shouldn't have.

Riri wasn't your girlfriend and if anything Shuri had the right to text or call Riri whenever she wanted. So why were you so mad?

Why were you jealous at the fact that Riri was so quick to drop everything as soon as Shuri called?

Was it because you wanted her to yourself?

Or maybe it was because Riri was just tonguing you down not even five minutes ago?

"Look I gotta go but I'ma text you, ok?"

"Yeah go take care of your business."

Riri got up ready to walk out but not before planting a small peck on your lips that left you wanting more as when she pulled away you went to chase after her lips.

She walks out and head back to her apartment leaving you alone in your room. You went to sleep horny and disappointed.

Meanwhile Riri went to sleep after cumming for the second time to the thought of you.

Truth be told Riri didn't leave because Shuri needed her she left because if she didn't she would have surely fucked you and if she did that then all of this would be over. Riri almost didn't want to admit it but when you kissed her at the record store it had felt different than how it did with all the other girls she had kissed; except for one person, Shuri.

A/N: I am actually so proud that I finished this because it seem like anytime I start a series I never finish when I should be but here we are I hope you guys like this.

Feedback is always appreciated, I love hearing from you guys.

#riri wiliams x reader #riri williams #riri x reader #riri x black fem reader #riri x you #shuri udaku #shuri x riri #shuri x reader #shuriri x reader #shuriri #Spotify

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